Freedom
by Stormkpr
Summary: The second book in my trilogy in which the X-men must fight back against the dominant FOH. Adults only please. COMPLETED
1. Default Chapter

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 1

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 1

For the better part of two years, 11 of us X-men have been living on a starship which we have named 'Freedom.' An ironic name, given that the vessel used to belong to the Friends of Humanity and was built for the purpose of hunting, capturing, and transporting mutants to their deaths. We took control of the ship and we now have other plans for it.

There is one room on board this ship that we never enter. In fact, no one has even opened the door to this room since we took over the ship.

I stopped to think about it once the other day, and it is a bit….unusual to not use every room on board a starship, especially given that at times this vessel has been almost been filled to capacity. And we make use of virtually every other room, including the one that used to house the cell where Professor X, Cyclops, Wolverine, Gambit, Beast, Colossus, and I were held prisoner of the FOH for several days. That room lost its power to unnerve me long ago.

The room that we haven't entered in two years is the room in which the rapes took place. I guess I don't need to say anything beyond that. Not only don't we enter it, but I've noticed myself and others taking a long way to avoid having to pass by it. I generally went for months without consciously thinking of the room, but I still tended to avoid walking past it. This ship is self-cleaning; you just press a few buttons and the walls, floors, and surfaces are automatically cleaned. So the room has been cleaned out since then, but that was easily done without anyone entering it.

Only once during the past two years have I ever heard any of the others talking about the room. It was Wolverine. This took place during one of those long, lazy days when we X-men spent seven months stranded on a lovely planet which we refer to as the Paradise Planet. We had the good fortune to be stranded astride a beach, and many of the summer days were spent swimming and lounging around in the sun. I had fallen asleep under the shade of an umbrella, and when I woke up, I heard Wolverine and Storm softly conversing nearby.

I don't know whether they had been aware that I was no longer asleep but they continued talking. It seemed that Storm had not slept well the previous night, and Wolverine was asking her about it. I knew that she was often plagued by nightmares, as I was----and still am occasionally. I knew this because she and I had shared a tent for several months. Wolverine knew it because he and Storm shared more than that----and still do. "I am fine, Logan," Storm was insisting.

"It sounded bad, `Ro," he said. I kept my eyes shut, now convinced they were unaware that I was awake. I never heard Wolverine call Storm by her given name and figured they only did that when alone. "You were screamin'. You sure you're okay, darlin'?"

"…Y-yes," she had said, after some hesitation. "And I do appreciate your concern. I was….I was wondering whether we did the right thing with the soldiers. That is what my dream was about. Guilt. In the dream, their spirits came back to haunt me, to punish me for allowing them to be killed." She didn't elaborate from there. Again there was no need to. After we X-men had gained control of the ship, Wolverine, Rogue and Gambit had killed the 100-plus FOH soldiers who had gang raped Storm, Rogue, Jean and Jubilee.

"I don't feel guilty. You shouldn't either. We were too soft on those bastards." I detected his voice rising, felt his anger returning despite our months of peaceful sojourn. "I'd do it again." A pause. "The other day on my way to the supply room, I passed….the room. I smelled everything. Blood… fear…semen….anger…." His voice seemed to trail off. Storm didn't say anything more, but after a while, Wolverine repeated, "I'd do it again."

That conversation took place months ago and it really was the only time I recall anyone talking about the room. Since then, we X-men have found a haven in the form of a moon called An'zhina. We've reunited with Nightcrawler, Psylocke, Angel, Moira MacTaggert, and Banshee. We've teamed up with the three surviving members of Alpha Flight, and recruited a few new X-men like Marrow and Panda. We've even managed to rescue over 200 mutants from the clutches of the FOH. Cyclops and Jean have one baby and a second on the way. Rogue and Gambit are engaged to be married. Everyone seems to be doing well. But still we don't go near that room.

Two starships continued their silent journey towards An'zhina. Both vessels were cloaked, invisible to any scanning equipment known on earth. Just as those mutants who lived on earth were forced to spend their days hiding from the authorities, the X-men's ships also relied on stealth.

One ship was called Freedom. The other was known as the Valiant, a much larger and faster piece of equipment, created and owned by a race known as the Endarians. The Valiant used its tractor beam to pull Freedom along. The X-men took turns at the helm of the Valiant. Valiant was larger and far more powerful than Freedom, but most X-men chose to spend their time on board the familiarity of Freedom.

The Professor, Hank and others had beamed over to the Valiant several times, trying to learn and absorb as much from the alien technology as they could. However, everyone knew that the Valiant was merely on loan to them. Once they arrived at An'zhina, the X-men were expected to turn over the Valiant back to Queen Marina, the leader of the Endarians, a race with which the X-men had an informal alliance. Marina had lent it to them solely to assist in the rescue of Wolverine, Gambit and Iceman. Now that the X-men had successfully saved their teammates from the FOH, the Valiant had to be returned.

"Don't get too cozy in there," Bobby Drake joked as Hank and Panda prepared to beam over to the Valiant. "You know we gotta give this thing back."

"We understand," Hank McCoy replied. "But there is no harm, my friend, in learning all we can from this advanced technology. Perhaps we can gain some insights into the workings of our own vessel."

"Thought you learned all that stuff those months you spent on the Paradise Planet. Remember the engineering team?"

"Knowledge is a lifelong process. There's always more to gain."

Panda smiled as she looked at Hank, the man with whom she had fallen in love. They shared each other's hearts, and also shared a thirst for knowledge and discovery. If she had not been kicked out of medical school for being a mutant, Panda too would have been a doctor. "I agree," she said. "When else are we going to get to spend time on board an Endarian spaceship? Their culture and their abilities are amazing. We should use this opportunity to learn as much as we can. Besides, we'll be back in Endarian space in just a few days. We need to make use of this while we can."

Bobby bit back a sarcastic reply as the couple beamed over to the Valiant. "Hank outta spend more time learning about getting it on with Panda, rather than learning about Endarian technology," he finally remarked once Hank and Panda were gone and Jubilee had entered the transporter room.

"Look who's talkin'", Jubilee replied, nudging Bobby's arm. "Word is he's not the only one in a celibate relationship," she said, with a playful smile on her face. She was teasing Bobby, but quite envious of him too. Bobby and Northstar of Alpha Flight had been slowly developing a relationship, one which had been interrupted by Bobby's capture. Now that Bobby was back, the two men had resumed getting to know each other, but doing so at a very slow pace. Northstar was still grieving the death of his previous partner, Phillippe, who had been killed by FOH almost two years ago.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Unfortunately, you're right on this one."

"There's been talk of placing bets on you," Jubilee said, her eyebrows raised.

"What??"  
  
"Oh, I was joking around the other day with a few others, who shall remain nameless. We considered placing bets on which couple would hit the sack together first: you and Northstar or Beast and Panda."

Bobby's jaw dropped open. He then closed it and shook his head, laughing. "You gotta be kidding. Okay, let me guess who your partners in crime are. Rogue and Gambit."

"Well, it sure wasn't the Professor and Scott!" Jubilee said, laughing now too. "Yeah, it was Rogue and Gambit."

"Well, well tell me….who did you bet on??"  


Jubilee shrugged. "There was no bet. All three of us agreed and no one wanted to bet the other side. We all think it will be you."

"God I hope so," Bobby said, his face tilted heavenwards as if in supplication. He then looked at Jubilee and quipped, "Yeah, glaciers move faster than Hank and Panda!"

Jean Grey looked at her timepiece. Fifty-three hours and counting. In fifty-three hours, Cyclops and the other X-men would be docking in Endaria. Fifty-three hours to go, and she and Scott would be in each other's arms once again, and she would have the pleasure of watching Scott hold their daughter. She knew how much he missed little Charlotte, their 11 month old baby.

Jean and Scott had "spoken" in each other's thoughts many times during the past several hours---as Scott and the others had gotten closer to Endaria, he had come within telepathy "range" and their mindlink allowed them this means of communication. But it wasn't the same. Jean had hardly been able to sleep at night without his strong, warm arms circling her.

Jean felt a kick and smiled, placing her hand over her swollen abdomen. Of course part of the reason she'd had so much trouble sleeping was her pregnancy. Now six months and two weeks along, Jean was experiencing a more challenging pregnancy than she had before. //Maybe it's because I'm older// Jean had speculated to Scott during their last link up.

//But you're only about a year older than you were during the last pregnancy// Scott had responded. Another thought had crossed his mind, one which he hadn't consciously transmitted to Jean, though she'd been able to pick up on it. He had been worried because several articles he had read indicated that first pregnancies were often the most difficult---not the reverse.

//Don't worry, Scott. I just saw the doctor. She said I'm fine and the baby is fine. The first childbirth was a breeze. This will be too. Besides, I bet part of the reason this pregnancy has been harder has to do with all the mutants we're taking care of. When I carried Charlotte, our days were very carefree and simple on the Paradise Planet. But now we're taking care of 160 mutants, and that is not easy.//

Living with Jean on An'zhina were 166 mutants who had been rescued by the X-men during their first rescue mission to earth. The mutants had all been imprisoned in FOH "Mutant Containment Centers", and many had been severely traumatized. Scott and Jean had been overseeing everything on An'zhina, including working with the rescuees and helping them to recover emotionally. When Scott had departed on the mission to rescue Wolverine, Gambit and Iceman, Jean had been left to care for the 166 mutants herself. By now, almost all of them were at the point where they could take care of themselves day by day, but many needed shoulders to cry on and a listening ear for them to open up to. Jean's door was always open for anyone, anytime. Jean also led healing ceremonies and pseudo-group therapy sessions for those who wanted it. Several weeks ago, Scott had gotten the idea to build a monument to those mutants who had been killed. Most of An'zhina's inhabitants eagerly worked away at the tribute, which thankfully kept so many of them occupied and fostered a feeling of working towards something meaningful.

Jean sighed and silently thanked the heavens that Charlotte was such a good baby. Her 11 month old was peaceful, serene and good-tempered. Sitting in her room that evening, Jean felt a gentle tug. "Da….da," Charlotte said.

Jean picked up her baby. The child was so….advanced for her age, already. She was beyond crawling and almost truly walking. Her language skills were beyond those of your average 11 month old. And there was something else, too. Jean sensed a depth, an understanding, a connection….it was hard to put into exact words. "What is it, sweetheart?" Jean asked softly. "Do you sense something with Daddy?" She then got the idea to check the timepiece. Staring at the numbers, Jean realized that the X-men would now be within communicator range. She picked up Charlotte and made her way to the transmitter room.

"Thank goodness you are safe," Jean was saying, directed mainly at Wolverine, Iceman and Gambit but also at all the other X-men.

"Piece 'o cake," Gambit said. "We knew we be rescued any day." Gambit sat on the bridge of Freedom, with Rogue perched on his lap. One of her gloved hands held his. The ring finger on her left hand showcased a sparkling diamond ring. As she did nearly every day, Rogue stole periodic glances at the ring. She still could scarcely believe that she was now engaged.

Virtually all of the other X-men clustered around Freedom's small bridge. It only had enough seats for four, but everyone was eager for news of An'zhina. Jean was happy to report that everything was normal. She listened as the X-men filled her in on the events that she had missed. Charlotte sat on Jean's lap, her small fists clenching and she started to bounce up and down a bit. "Da da…..da da da," she kept repeating.

"Is Charlotte alright?" Scott asked, sitting on one of the other chairs. He practically hunched over the communications equipment. "She sounds a bit agitated."  
  
"I think she just misses you," Jean answered. "She asks for you every day and….."  
  
"Jean?"

"Well, maybe I'm wrong," Jean said after a short pause. "I'm sensing that she wants you to read her a story." Jean smiled. "**That's** what she's being so insistent about and what's making her so agitated. She wants you to read her favorite story to her."

"The one about the unicorn and the rainbow?"

"Of course. The one that you read to her every night. She has really missed your bedtime stories. I'm so glad you're just a few days away."

An idea popped into Scott's head. "I can read the story to her now."

"But how? The book is here."

Scott shrugged. "I know the story by heart, after reading it to her so many times. Jean, you get the book and show Charlotte the pictures. I'll read the words to her." Scott then looked up and looked around the bridge. He had forgotten for a second that all the other X-men were standing around the room. "Er----that is, unless anyone else needs to use the subspace communicator…or use anything else on the bridge," he said, sheepishly.

Storm smiled indulgently, vastly enjoying seeing this different side of Scott, "Please, Cyclops, don't allow us to stop you. Charlotte's well-being is important to all of us too."

"You're sure?" he asked, though his gaze was in the direction of his professor.

Charles Xavier smiled. He loved Charlotte too. "By all means," he said. "We would not want to cause you to be remiss in your paternal duties." Several good-natured chuckles were exchanged around the room.

And so, sitting on An'zhina, Jean turned the pages and showed Charlotte the pictures as Scott read the words to his daughter over the communicator from the bridge of Freedom, light years away. After he was finished, the X-men had to applaud----Scott had easily recited every word from memory.

"Being a Dad is the best thing in the world," he told the group. As he said the words, Rogue felt Gambit's eyes on her. She turned her head towards her fiance and forced herself to return his smile. He didn't need to say anything; she knew what he was thinking.

As soon as Scott was finished, Banshee eagerly took the communications device and spoke with his daughter Siryn. Siryn had been rescued by the X-men during their raid on the Mutant Containment Center in England, and she had thought----as had Moira and everyone else----that Banshee was dead. Siryn had chosen to remain back on An'zhina as the X-men had set off for their second rescue mission. As soon as Siryn had received word that her father was alive, she had been ecstatic. She, Banshee, and Moira spoke for hours over the communication relay that afternoon. Moira and Banshee held hands the entire time, awestruck and delighted to be reunited.

For the remainder of the day, the look Remy had given Rogue on the bridge stayed with her. She made her way to the room she shared with Gambit to get some privacy from the rest of the gang. Feeling tired, Rogue removed her boots and flopped down onto the bed. The last several weeks had been extremely draining, both physically and emotionally. She had spent every waking (and non-waking) hour worried about Gambit, and she'd trained in the reconstructed Danger Room hours on end every day. She was just now coming down from the high of being reunited with Remy. Once he'd been freed, they had spent the better part of their days curled up in their bed together, not necessarily making love most of the time but always in some physical contact with each other. The emotional roller-coaster she'd ridden took its toll, and Rogue began to look forward to a nap. She thanked her lucky stars as she glanced at the schedule and saw that her next duty shift on board the Valiant was not until tomorrow.

`What would Jean tell me?' she asked herself. `Or Storm?' Rogue shut her eyes and pictured the two women who were among her dearest friends. `Storm would say to concentrate on the present and not worry about the future. Remy and I aren't planning on havin' children anytime soon, and she'd say to forget about it until then. If I can't have kids, no use worrying about it now…..And Jean would say that Remy loves me and he'll keep on loving me even if I can't have kids.' Rogue shifted her body into a more comfortable position. `But how can I both know they're right and not believe them at the same time?'

Rogue's thoughts continued to drift. She could see herself and Remy years down the road, married and unable to have children. She could see herself crying and telling him to go find himself a real woman instead. "Go find yourself a real woman instead." She had said those words to him more than once, years ago. The memories were still with her.

Rogue plowed deeper into her memory. Those were strange and scary and exciting days. Just reminiscing of this period in her life brought a smile to her face, and tears to her eyes. She recalled every memory crisply and clearly as if it had all happened yesterday, and she replayed them in her mind.

It was roughly 5 or 6 years ago. She and Remy had both been in the X-men for a little while and were getting closer and closer to each other. Rogue was unable to fight off her attraction to him though she tried valiantly. After she had put her first ever boyfriend in a coma, she had tried to banish all thoughts of love and romance from her mind----such things were not in the cards for her. But Rogue was a young woman and had the same cravings for affection and for passion that everyone had. And Gambit relentlessly pursued her. Despite the number of times she had yelled at him, punched him, and threw him out of her car, Gambit continued to hunt down her heart. How could she fight him? Gambit was handsome and romantic and suave. And as much as Rogue tried to tell herself he was full of shit, she was starting to believe him when he told her that he loved her.

His first declaration had occurred when the X-men were being held captive by Mr. Sinister and his henchmen in the Savage Land. The X-men had been attempting to rescue the Professor and Jean, but when they arrived at the Savage Land, they found that their powers had been rendered useless and were promptly taken prisoner by the Nasty Boys. Standing in their cell, it dawned on Rogue that she could touch anyone if she wanted to. It must have already dawned on Gambit as he kept looking at her. Rogue was no expert at romance or emotions but she didn't need any help to read his expression---it was an undeniable look of love on his face.

Then Sinister had decided to torture Rogue next. As the Nasty Boys had moved to take Rogue from the cell, Gambit encircled her with his arms and told her that he loved her. He planted a kiss on her mouth before they dragged her away. Rogue had been so shocked at the sensations she was feeling from Gambit that the torture Sinister subjected her to was somehow bearable.

As always, the X-men had defeated their foes and escaped. Rogue and Gambit sat next to each other on the ride home in the Blackbird, holding hands through their gloves but not speaking. She was too overwhelmed.

From that point onward, Gambit's pursuit of Rogue had increased. Back at the mansion, he was after her almost every day. Finally one day, Rogue had exploded, "Look what the hell do you want from me, Mister?? We ain't in the Savage Lands anymore and I can't touch you! So would you leave me alone!"

"Gambit knows he can't touch you," Remy had said simply, "but I want to be your man anyway. An' I want you to be my woman, Rogue." He stepped closer to her as he said the words. The couple was alone in the woods near Xavier's mansion. Rogue was almost starting to wish she hadn't agreed to take a walk with him.

"You're crazy," Rogue had replied, her heart beating so loudly she was certain he could hear it over the din and hum of the nature sounds that surrounded them. "Now leave me alone."

"Gambit not going to leave you alone, chere, until you say `yes.'"

"'Yes' to what??" Rogue asked, her eyes afire. She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "To what??" she repeated. "You want a girlfriend you can't touch?? Have you really thought this through, Swamp Rat?" She knew for certain that a man as….sensual as Remy certainly must have thought it through. But why on earth would he want to be her boyfriend if he knew that they would never be able to kiss, never be able to make love?

"I have indeed, chere," he answered enigmatically.

"Oh really? So what's your catch, Mr. Ladies Man? You wanna be my boyfriend but be free to mess around with other women on the side. Is that it?? And what kind of girl do you think I am if I accept that?" Rogue's frustration continued to rise. As she continued to get more confused and agitated, she noticed that Remy stood by very calmly, not the least bit flustered.

"Dat is not at all what Gambit be proposing. Gambit want to be your one and only, and be faithful to you too, chere."

Rogue's patience had reached its limits and she decided it was time to be direct. "Oh, okay. So you're just gonna go without sex, then? `Cause you know I can't touch anyone and in case you can't figure it out, that means we can't kiss and we'll never be able to make love! What sort of relationship is that?!"

"Ah, but we can kiss, chere. And Gambit will make love to you, too if you want."

"And just **how** do you propose that we do that, Swamp Rat, given that I can put you in a coma if I touch you for more than a few seconds??"

"Gambit has a few ideas," was his mysterious reply.

They continued on like this for hours, and then for days. Gambit wore her resistance down. She eventually consented to "date" him but not to be his lover----she knew that he had some ideas on how they might make love but the thought blew her mind too much and she did not want to pursue it. So for months and months they acted as a couple, spending most of their free time together, attending plays and movies, having candlelit dinners together and even taking a few vacations. After a few weeks, Rogue agreed to Gambit's crazy idea of sharing a kiss. They did so with the aid of the softest piece of satin cloth Gambit could find. The first time, Rogue felt nothing but foolish--- smooching Gambit through a piece of cloth. But Remy had no complaints. She got used to it and came to enjoy it. And as for Gambit---he claimed he always enjoyed it and didn't miss kissing the "normal" way, no matter how many times Rogue tried to cajole him into admitting that this was insufficient.

Every day Rogue would tell herself that this was insane, this had to be dissatisfying for Gambit and he would leave her any day now for another woman. But Rogue had the help and support of both Storm and Jean who encouraged her to follow her heart and open herself to Gambit, if that's what her instincts were telling her. So she listened to their advice and stayed with it.

The longer they stayed together, the more Remy won over her heart. Of course he'd possessed it from the beginning (much as Rogue had fought it), but Rogue was amazed with his patience. He never pressured her for sex. He allowed her to go at her own pace. As more months passed and it been nearly a year since they'd officially begun their relationship, Rogue started to become convinced that he really loved her. If he did not, surely he would have left her by now for a woman he could kiss without a barrier, for one he could make love to. Gambit could have any woman he wanted and yet amazingly he had hadn't pursued anyone else. She found herself returning his declarations of love and knowing with every fiber in her body that she meant it.

And then, before she knew it, one evening they were sitting together in her room. They were cuddled up together, sharing a drink and she found herself asking him what he'd meant so long ago when he had told her that he had a few ideas about how they could make love.

"Let Gambit show you," he said, his voice velvety smooth. His arms embraced her though both still had to remain careful that no areas of bare skin touched against other bare skin. "Let me guide you, chere and we make each other feel so good," Remy murmured. Rogue found herself surrendering to him. Their touches, through clothing of course, became more and more insistent. Gambit nuzzled his face against her breasts, feeling their softness even as her clothes stood as a barrier.

They continued to touch and caress through their clothing. Rogue wasn't panicking at all, wasn't backing down. It all felt so right. After some gentle coaxing, Rogue removed her bra though she kept her shirt on. Gambit rhythmically stroked her breasts through the thin material of the shirt, running his fingers over her erect nipples. He gently squeezed the flesh. Rogue felt such a craving, such a desire. She started to moan unabashedly. This was so intimate a touch, no one had ever done this before….she had no choice but to move her hips.

Gambit seemed to sense her need and gestured for her to straddle one of his legs. Rogue hesitated for only a split second before her needs took over. She mounted him. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she rode him, thrusting herself on his leg. As she obeyed the demands of her body she had to fight her equally strong urge to kiss Gambit. No chance that they could do that. But she looked into his eyes and saw his love, his desire. The look was so intense that she closed her eyes. She cried as she came, tears rolling down her face. Rogue's frantic movements slowed, her body came down from the high of an intense orgasm.

Afterwards, Rogue got off of Gambit and knelt in front of him, resting her head on his lap. He stroked her hair as the tears continued to cascade down. "Why you crying, chere?" Gambit asked softly.

"Because I love you," she answered quietly, in between sobs. "And I know this can't be satisfying for you."

"Oh, chere, you know dat it is. You know dat Remy loves you….Did I make you feel good?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "But what do we do now about…you?"

Remy guided Rogue's hand. She felt the bulging hardness through his clothes. He stood up and shed his outer layer of clothing. Then Gambit placed his hand over her gloved hand. She was wearing satin gloves. Rogue then stroked, easily finding a rhythm he enjoyed. Gambit thrust into her hands.

Boldly, Gambit broke off the motion and stepped away to remove the rest of his clothing. Rogue gasped, her eyes drinking in the sight of him. He was….beautiful. She'd never seen a sight more entrancing than this. His chest, his strong shoulders, powerful legs. Raised to be a demure Southern belle, Rogue knew she should have lowered her eyes but she had to look at his hardness. It proudly stood erect, seeking attention. Rogue wanted to just sit there and look at Gambit, naked all night but at the same time she desperately wanted to bring him all the pleasure he'd just brought her.

So Rogue resumed her movements, putting her gloved hand back on his cock and pumping. Remy groaned intermittently, telling her how much he enjoyed what she was doing, how good it felt. His thrusts against her fist became more and more frantic. Her eyes bulged in wonderment as he came, spurting the white substance all over. She dabbed at a few of the drops that had spilled onto her glove and licked them.

So that had been Rogue and Gambit's first time, so many years ago. They spent years experimenting. They often enjoyed stripping off their clothes and masturbating together. They discovered the wonders of latex and found ways to lick each other through the barrier. And they bought a lot of silk and satin. Slowly Rogue's feelings of inadequacy melted away though the doubts continued to creep in on occasion.

That afternoon on board the starship Freedom, Rogue awoke from her reverie. Such good memories, and things were now even better now than she had ever dreamed. She and Gambit could touch all they wanted, provided she wore the inhibitor collar which blocked her mutant powers. And now they were engaged to be married. Rogue mused that Storm and Jean always gave such great advice. They had been right to encourage her to open her heart to Gambit so many years ago. Rogue now experienced the rewards daily. And after Gambit's recent rescue from the Cetians, Rogue was determined to never let him go.

Jean-Paul and I were in the rec room, performing Uncle duty for Jubilee's daughter Aurora. The 14 month old was impossible to contain---she squirmed, crawled, and walked around, picking up everything and exploring as much as she could. "This is tiring!" I said to Jean-Paul. He and I were sitting on the floor as I scrambled after the child and kept her from placing something undesirable in her mouth. "Who knew that something so small could involve so much work?" I still remembered Rory when she was tiny and spent basically all day sleeping or messing up her diaper. She still messed her diaper all the time but now she was so incredibly **active.**

Jean-Paul smiled. He has the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. As the corners of his mouth angle upwards, his eyes shine. I felt my heart dancing as I observed him. "What did you expect, mon ami?" he asked. "I'm sure her mom appreciates the break she's taking right now."

"I can see why she needs one!"

"Children at this age are always going to be a handful, Bobby. I remember when my nephew was this age. I was always babysitting for Stephan and I knew it was a big help for Jeanne-Marie and her husband---but I was bone tired afterwards. I loved it though." He paused and gave an intent look towards Rory. "I love children."

"Rory seems more agitated than usual though," I said.

"Maybe she knows that we're close to An'zhina," Jean-Paul suggested.

"She'll be happy when we dock tomorrow. She loves her little cousin Charlotte."

"Sar!" Rory exclaimed, picking up her friend's name and flapping her hands excitedly. She then eagerly crawled back towards me and I scooped her up.

"That's right," I said to the little bundle. "You'll see Charlotte soon!" I looked at the baby. She still had her mother's features---the eyes, nose, and shape of the face were clearly Jubilee. Maybe not the mouth so much but she basically looked like a little version of her mom. Which was fortunate.

Hank then entered the room, offering to help us babysit. Barely a minute had passed since Hank joined us when Northstar's communicator beeped. It was his sister, asking him to help her with Stephan.

"I must go," Northstar said, getting to his feet. "Stephan is so much trouble nowadays. I think he was easier to handle when he was her age!" he said, gesturing towards Rory. Things were not going so well for Northstar's nephew. Jean-Paul shared with me that Stephan had called his mother a "fucking gene-freak" that morning. (I was told that years ago Stephan had been tested and it turned out that the boy, like his father, was **not** a mutant.) The kid continued to pout every day and demand to be taken back to earth "away from all you sick muties" (as he'd yelled at us during dinner one evening.) No, things were not going well at all.

Jeanne-Marie and Jean-Paul were working with the boy almost constantly, but they sure didn't seem to be having much luck with him. The boy's paternal grandparents must have done a magnificent job of brainwashing him against all mutants. Of course they'd had plenty of help from the media, the government, the schools, most religions, etc. But really, I felt bad for the kid. His father had been killed by FOH and he had been forcibly taken away from his grandparents. Now he lived somewhere devoid of other youngsters his age. (Shaman's daughter Lily Pearl was 11----and at that age, that was such a big gap from Stephan, who was 7.) And when we arrived at An'zhina, there would be no other kids his age there either. I could understand why he was, well, miserable.

After telling his sister he'd be right there, Jean-Paul gave me a quick kiss on the mouth and then left the room. I watched him exit. Have I mentioned lately what a lovely backside he has? And such a graceful gait----elegant and somehow **manly** at the same time.

Rory then crawled in the direction of Hank and occupied herself by playing with his fur. Hank lovingly held the child. "It **is** fun," I said, watching them.

"Playing with my fur you mean?" Hank asked. He and I laughed together. Yeah, I liked to play with, brush, etc his coat. It was fun. I really wanted to put ribbons and bows on it but he wouldn't let me.

"I missed it when I was….working in the mines," I said.

Hank smiled and made his way closer to me. We both sat on the floor, Rory still on his lap. "That is something I wanted to ask you about, my friend."

"Mining? Or your fur?" I quipped.

"You know what I mean," he said, his tone serious. "I simply seek to ensure that you are well. You were kidnapped by the Friends of Humanity and transported to a distant planet where you were forced to labor in a mine for several weeks. A traumatic experience to be sure, and yet you seem so….untraumatized."

I shrugged. "I can't explain it, Hank. Gambit kept saying every day that we'd be rescued. Wolverine and I teased him and called him Little Miss Sunshine but what he said worked. I just knew you'd rescue us. Besides," I continued, as Rory grabbed a bundle of Hank's chest fur and gnawed on it, "the FOH let a few things slip. We overheard them say that no other X-men were captured. They said that you had run off in battle. So we knew the rest of you were okay and working day and night to free us. So we knew Gambit wasn't really full of it when he kept saying you'd free us."

Hank shook his head. "I am very glad that you knew we were alive. I myself will never forget those days after you were captured….Not knowing from day to day whether you were alive or dead. I could scarcely sleep out of fear."

I reached for his hand and squeezed it. "Maybe you were more traumatized than I was by this!" I said, trying to bring some levity into it. "It is really good to be back with you," I said, taking a serious tone. I then sighed and remembered, "I think maybe the reason I'm doing alright is because I expected it all to be so much worse. The first several hours after we realized we were prisoners of FOH, I kept expecting them to torture me. I kept waiting for them to grab me out of the cell and torture me. But after not too long, they also let it slip that they weren't going to physically harm us. So that made the whole thing….tolerable." I let my voice trail off. Of course there had been one night on the FOH ship when several guards had approached our cell and demanded the right to beat me up. They targeted me----not Gambit or Wolverine----because I was gay. They kept saying things like they wanted to beat the crap out of the faggot. But the other guards wouldn't let them. I shared this with Hank, too. "That probably was the only time I was really petrified," I said.

"Despite what you say, you have lived through an ordeal," he said. "And you know that if you ever do need to discuss it with someone….."

"I'll call you. Seriously, thanks Hank. I do appreciate your concern but I'm fine." I then glanced at Rory who had forgotten her pursuit of Hank's fur and was now cradled in his lap, sleeping all of a sudden.

"She loves you," I said.

"She loves all of us," Hank said. "We are her family."

"You handle her well. You'd make a great dad."

"Why thank you, Bobby."

"You and Panda plannin' on having any kids of your own?"

"We have not discussed it as of yet but I would imagine it is quite possible, someday."

"Why haven't you discussed it?"

Hank smiled, "Because we have only been in a relationship with each other for a matter of months!"

"That's enough time," I said, shrugging. "So, uh, Hank….you and Panda planning to get…intimate any time soon?"

Hank rolled his eyes. "Tact has never been your strong point, my friend."

"I know, I know it's none of my business," I said, smiling. "But we all want to know when it's going to happen! I mean, c'mon, really, what are you waiting for? Do you want the Pope to bless your union? Or is it lack of experience you're worried about?" I went on at my own peril, knowing I was testing Hank's patience. Oh what the heck---I always tend to test his patience and he deals with it. "I bet Gambit could give you some pointers if that's what you're worried about. And really, lack of experience is nothing to worry about either. She doesn't have any. Nobody's first time is all that fantastic. No one gets it right their first time. Just look at it as a learning experience, like a scientific discovery! It will be fun!"

Hank sighed and seemed ready to roll his eyes again. I had to stifle a giggle since I think I'm the only person who really gets him this way. I then thought he was going to tell me to cut the humor but instead his voice took on its normal serious and poetic tone. "Truly, Bobby, experience is not the main reason I'm holding off either."

"It's not?"

"No."

"What is the main reason?"

He paused. I looked at his eyes and they looked far away, as if he were searching for something. He then spoke, but quietly----so quietly, I had to strain to hear him. "I am afraid of hurting her….she was raped too."

"Oh." I was at a bit of a loss for words, and had to grope for the right ones. "But….but I thought that she wasn't held prisoner with the other women and that she was grouped in the barracks that Nightcrawler and the other men were in. So I thought FOH didn't-----"

"A few times the soldiers took advantage of her anyway," he said, still sounding faraway. I nodded mutely, and Hank continued, this time sounding more like himself, "Bobby, I should not have shared this with you. She has told no one else and although she did not expressly forbid me to divulge this, she did not expressly permit it either."

"But….hasn't she told Storm or Rogue or any of the other women? I mean, they've all lived through it themselves and spent so much time counseling the women who've survived this and…." I let my voice trail off.

"Panda and I have only discussed this topic twice. I brought it up the second time and asked her again if she wanted to discuss it with me more or confide in anyone else. She said that she preferred neither option and had no wish to talk about it at all." Hank paused and took a breath. "Bobby, I am quite serious—I should never have told you. I feel as if I have betrayed her confidence." The look on his face made it clear that he felt he had committed a big mistake and a breach of Panda's trust in telling me. "It's just that….." then his voice broke off. Hank was apparently at a loss for words, something you didn't see every day. "It is just that I am concerned for her and her apparent lack of desire to discuss this. I am worried for her. And you see now this is why I have not initiated anything sexual with her. I hypothesize that she is not recovered from her experience."

"Hank, I know you feel bad about telling me….her secret. Listen, I promise that I will not tell anyone else," I said firmly. "So you don't need to worry about her finding out that you told." I took a breath and then said, "You know, she could have any number of reasons for not wanting to talk about it. I mean, maybe she feels fine but she just doesn't want to go over the details again and that's why she's not talking about it. I don't know her, obviously, the way you do….but she seems like she's doing just fine and all. She just doesn't behave like someone who has been traumatized or is depressed or something like that. "

Hank replied, "I too am somewhat puzzled….I do not know whether she is burying any emotional or mental distress or whether she is truly non-traumatized. People vary greatly in terms of how they display their emotions, and I sense that Panda has been suppressing emotional pain for much of her life. And I cannot imagine any rape survivor not experiencing some degree of emotional distress. That would go against virtually everything I have read." He paused, "And I have read more on that topic than I ever wish I had a need to."

"Me too," I said quietly.

At that point, Hank's communicator beeped. It was Ramon, one of the mutants we'd rescued on our first rescue mission. Hank and Panda had been training him and they said he was basically a fully qualified medical assistant at that point. Anyway, he called requesting Hank's assistance in sick bay. On the X-men's second rescue mission to earth, we'd rescued 55 mutants who'd been held in a "Containment Center" in Beijing. Most of the survivors had been foregone both counseling and medical treatment. However, Ramon was telling Hank that one of them wanted to see him. So he promptly handed the sleeping Rory to me and exited the room.

The X-men docked their starship Freedom on the moon An'zhina. They had sent the Valiant on auto-pilot to dock in one of Endaria's stations, per the instructions given to them by the Queen's associate, Teleris. Many of the 166 mutants who now made An'zhina their home rushed up to greet the X-men. The 54 mutants who had been living with the X-men on board Freedom were given a tour of the place and shown to their quarters.

Cyclops picked up his daughter and hugged and kissed her. As Charlotte waved her hands with obvious glee, Scott told her over and over again how much he loved her. She rained several kisses on his face. Being separated from Charlotte these past few weeks had been absolutely hellish. Once Scott was finished kissing his girl and receiving her kisses, Jean and Scott then shared a long embrace. They remained hugging each other, Charlotte in between them, for many long moments. "I would like to say that I knew the whole time you'd be returning to me," Jean said, "but I worried constantly anyway."

Another father-daughter pair embraced just as eagerly. Siryn cried as she hugged her father, disbelieving that he was here with her, alive. Banshee held back the tears, thinking of the suffering Siryn had endured in the camps and praying she would be well. Banshee, Moira and Siryn soon went off together to catch up.

Jean embraced all of the other X-men upon seeing them, especially Bobby, Wolverine and Gambit. She had been so fearful for them. Jubilee held Aurora and brought her daughter over to Jean and Scott's girl. The babies were clearly delighted to be seeing each other again.

The Professor lightly tapped the side of his head and mentally took a reading of An'zhina. "The mutants here are doing well," he said, looking at Jean. "Of course one cannot make such a blanket statement about 166 individuals, but overall most of them are in much better mental condition than they had been a few months ago."

"It is true," Jean said. "Everything we have been doing with them has been helping."

"I look forward to seeing the monument," Storm said. Cyclops had shared with the rest that the mutants on An'zhina had begun working on a memorial to all of the mutants on earth who had been killed. Storm quietly thought of Shadowcat, Morph and all the others who were no longer with them. She would never forget them and was cheered at the thought of a permanent tribute to them. She wished that she herself had come up with the idea of creating such a monument. The X-men had agreed to spend some time on An'zhina, resting up and Storm looked forward to getting a chance at working on the monument herself.

"I can't wait to see how it's coming along," Scott said, holding Charlotte in his arms.

"Quite a bit of progress has been made since you left," Jean said. "There still are several weeks worth of work on it though, at least according to Mitch." Mitch was one of the rescued mutants and a former architect who had been taking the lead on the project.

"How are you feeling?" Jubilee asked Jean, taking a pointed look at her swelling abdomen. "How's this one coming along?"

Jean sighed and forced a smile. "I'm tired often but things are alright. This one's been a bit harder than the first pregnancy."

"Let me know if I can help," Jubilee said eagerly. She liked the thought of having gone through something Jean had and possessing some firsthand knowledge.

Northstar looked around and took a deep breath. "Mon dieu!" he exclaimed. "It is beautiful here. And the air is so fresh." He looked excitedly at Bobby. "I love it!"

"Wait until you see more of it," Bobby said. "The beaches----and the view from the hills," he said, pointing. "The view from the hills is incredible."

The two exchanged a look. Northstar flew off in the direction of the hills, and Bobby made an ice slide to follow him.

Jubilee looked in the direction of Wolverine. He also was inhaling An'zhina's fresh air, obviously drinking in the surroundings. Jubilee playfully poked him in the side. "Thinking of running off on your own?" she teased.

Wolverine's reply was not light-hearted. "I'm thinkin' how this place feels like home," he finally said. It was true. The after living at the X-mansion for a while, he had been forced to admit to himself that that place was his home. Now the mansion was destroyed. Logan knew that this moon, so distant from earth, was now the location that meant "home" to him.

"C'mon," Jubilee said, "let's go for a walk."

"What about the kid?" he asked. Rory had scampered into Gambit's arms. Gambit was standing next to Scott and Jean, and Rory was pawing her friend Charlotte as Charlotte was held by her Dad. "She wants to be wit' her friend," Gambit said. "So I'll keep an eye on her. You go off and get re-acquainted with the moon."

"Really?" Jubilee asked.  
  
"Sure! You do what you want. Gambit stay with petit' an' keep her outta trouble."

Happily, Jubilee and Wolverine headed off to walk in the nearby woods. Jubilee was so grateful for all the support of the other X-men. Anytime she needed to take a nap or a rest break of any kind, there was always someone happy to volunteer for Uncle or Auntie duty with Aurora. She could not have raised her daughter without everyone else pitching in.

The X-men slowly disbursed. Many gave tours to the members of Alpha Flight and their families, who were eager to see the place. Everyone stopped by the monument at one point, which was progressing well.

"When I get my other arm back, I'll be able to hold you in my arms and we can fly anywhere," Northstar was saying to me. He and I had made our way to the top of the hills, him via flying and me via an ice slide. We were sitting together, holding each other. Jean-Paul dropped his head and rested it on my shoulder.

"And just how do you plan to get your other arm back?" I asked. I hated breaking the intimate mood we'd created but the question had to be asked.

"Queen Marina, of course. Don't you think she'd help me? She got Gambit out of that coma," he said, referring to the coma Remy had been in when he and Rogue had touched for several seconds without the benefit of Rogue's collar. "And she lent us the starship."  
  
"…Yes," I said after a pause, unsure of what else to say. Marina did give us the Valiant on loan, but from what Scott had said, she'd made it pretty clear that we were to view it as a rare exception and that she had been forced to pull a lot of strings to get it. And yeah, she had summoned doctors to help Gambit but it was necessary if he was to ever come out of that coma. But with Northstar's missing arm, no one's life was in jeopardy….this was not a life-and-death situation as the others had been. Would the other X-men even be okay with Northstar asking this of the Queen? We had already asked her for so much.

"We'll have to wait a bit for Marina to return though," Jean-Paul was saying. "The Professor told us that her associate Teleris said that she wished to welcome us back to An'zhina but is wrapped up in a series of all-day meeting with her Executive Council." I nodded and he went on. "She might be occupied for a matter of weeks with this. But when she's free, I look forward to talking to her."

I worried and didn't know how to respond, so I concentrated instead on affection. I tilted my head down and buried my nose and mouth in the scent of his hair. I placed several kisses on the top of his head. "It's so good to have you back, Bobby," he murmured as I kissed the white, silver and black colored locks. "Those weeks with you gone were awful."

"They were awful for me, too. Every night when I went to sleep, I thought of you and how much I wanted to be back with you like this." I brought one hand up towards his ears and gently stroked them, something he'd once told me he liked. "That helped keep me going."

"Storm was wonderful in helping me to keep going,' Jean-Paul said. "There were times when I honestly wanted to give up. I've lost so much in my life. My parents, my surrogate uncle Raymonde, almost all of the rest of my family in Alpha Flight---I still can't believe I will never see Walter or Puck again----, my daughter Joanne," he said, referring to the infant he had adopted four years ago who had been born with and died from AIDS. "I can't lose any more. But Storm was so helpful to me while you were held prisoner."

I nodded. "Storm is amazing. She has a way of making everyone feel right, of giving us reasons to keep going."  
  
"She is quite an inspiring leader. And she is right. Let us not dwell on our losses but on what we have. I have you. I have my sister and nephew. And I think over time I will come to see the rest of the X-men as my family."

"I think so too."

"Everyone has accepted me in so well."

So we stayed like that, embracing and trying to talk about the positive things since we had both lived through so much misery. We continued to kiss. "Your cheeks are so smooth," I said, caressing the sides of his face. "You don't ever have to shave, do you?" I loved the silky feel of that skin.

"No," he said. I think he was enjoying my touches. "I've never had to. So you would never have to worry about razor burn."

At one point, we were kissing in earnest. My pulse was pounding, my senses were whirling as our tongues touched. His mouth tasted so good. But after way too short an amount of time, Jean-Paul pulled away.

I forced a smile. "So tonight is not going to be our night?" I asked, disappointed. Actually, 'disappointed' was a bit of an understatement.

"I'm sorry, Bobby. But I----I do not want to rush things," he said.

"I know," I said softly. "I understand." We'd been through the reasons many times before.

He placed his hand on my shoulder. Even such a light touch burned, made my heart beat faster. I tried to will my body into calming down but it wouldn't. "You know, we need to be cautious how we approach our relationship," he said. "You and I are the only gay men here. There is a good chance we might never see any others. I am sure that FOH is killing any gay mutants they find at their camps."

I nodded. "I'm sure too. So we have to be careful we don't fuck things up between the two of us."

"Exactly. I've destroyed many a good relationship by moving it along too fast."

"Me too," I added. What can I say? He was right, much as I hated to admit it. We then agreed to head back for our living quarters. Jean-Paul expressed a desire to see the main complex.

I stood and offered him my hand. "Well, I'd be glad to give you a tour of the building but more than anything now, I think I need to take a cold shower!" I said, smiling. He and I both laughed.

"Mon ami, can't you just turn yourself into Iceman?"

We laughed at this newly discovered use of my powers.

"I missed this view," Scott said. He and Jean were also cuddled up together in the hills that evening, looking down at their settlement on An'zhina. Gambit and Rogue, already on Uncle-and-Aunt duty with Aurora volunteered to look after Charlotte as well for a bit. Charlotte had been excited and thrilled to see her Dad and Rory again, but after not long the baby promptly fell asleep. So Jean used her telekinesis to float herself and her husband up the hills. Jean probably could have made the trek herself but given the advanced stage of her pregnancy, did not wish to try it.

"It's so good to have you back," Jean said. "Oh!" she said, a thought popping into her head. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you. I think the baby is a boy," she said, patting her abdomen.

"Really? Why do you think that?"

"I can't explain it but I just sense it very strongly. When I was carrying Charlotte, I couldn't sense it one way or the other. But for the past couple days, I just have had a very strong feeling that this one is a boy. I know I'm right about this."

"How wonderful," Scott said. "We would be blessed to have one of each."

"I know. I agree. Of course….you wouldn't be disappointed if I'm wrong?"

"Jean, how could you even ask such a thing? Of course not! If we have a healthy baby, that's all I care about." He smiled and kissed her cheek. "Have you thought any more about names?"

"Not really. I do like the idea of naming him after your father, Christopher. It's a good name."

"I agree. And if we do have a girl, you still like the idea of naming her after Shadowcat?"

"Yes, I think so. Katherine is a beautiful name. And what a nice way to honor Kitty."

"Regardless of whether we have a boy or girl, I hope the baby is as well-behaved as Charlotte. That girl is a parents' dream," Scott mused.

"I know. We are so lucky that she's so good," Jean agreed.  
  
"It's uncanny, how well-behaved Charlotte is. We've never had to discipline her. I don't think I've ever even raised my voice at her."  
  
"And we never will," Jean said, her voice adopting a more serious tone. "You know, Scott, if….little Christopher or Katherine isn't as good as Charlotte, we will find ways to discipline without being harsh." This was one area where Scott had been particularly worried. And as he'd been raised in an orphanage, Scott distrusted many of his parental instincts and deferred to Jean all the time. He constantly feared that he would be too harsh or too inflexible as a father. "You know I feel strongly that no one should ever hit a child. My parents never hit us and Sara and I both turned out well and good. They were such gentle and loving parents." Jean shook her head as she went on. "I'll never forget when I learned that other kids weren't as lucky as I." She went on to recount an incident she had told Scott of before. "I remember the time I was having a sleep-over at my friend Jenny's house. We must have been about 8 or 9. Jenny did something to anger her parents---I have no idea what. Her mom flew into a rage and asked Jenny if she wanted to be punished in front of me or not. Jenny was already crying when her mom led her off into a room. I was so fascinated and horrified that I peeked through the door of the room to watch. Her mom was beating Jenny with----with a stick or something. I will never, as long as I live, forget the sight of my friend, her face all red, crying hysterically." Jean stopped and took a deep breath. "There can never be a reason to hit a child."

"You have good instincts, Jean. We-----" Scott stopped speaking when he saw Northstar fly back down the hill in a flash. Iceman slid down after him on one of his ice tracks.

"Apparently we weren't the only ones enjoying the hills tonight," Jean said, smiling. She turned her head towards Scott and saw the disapproving look on his face. "What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing," Scott muttered.

"No, what is it?" she pressed. "I sense you're having some negative emotions right now."

Scott sighed. "I don't want to be a bigot. I really don't. But I find myself looking down on Bobby lately."  
  
"Really?"

"I don't know, Jean. It didn't bother me so much when he was single, but now that he and Northstar are together…."  


"What is the `it' you refer to? The fact that he's gay?"

"Yeah," Scott admitted. "As the team leader, I treat all of my people equally. In fact, I pride myself on that---I won't treat any of the X-men differently because of their race or sex or any characteristic like that. And I don't treat Bobby any differently even though I think….that it's wrong. But now that he and Northstar are a couple…." Scott let his voice trail off.  
  
"…It reminds us that he is different, he is gay," Jean said, finishing Scott's thought for him.

Scott nodded. "I just think that it's **wrong.** It's against nature."

"Why do you say that?" Jean asked. She tried to be patient. She and Scott had discussed this subject before, though not for quite a while. Last time they had been forced to 'agree to disagree.'

Scott shrugged. "It just doesn't seem to be what nature---or God---intended. It takes a man and a woman to create a baby. I think it's against the natural order of things to want to be with a member of your same sex that way."

"But look at us, Scott," Jean said, gently placing a hand on his arm. "There are many people who say that being a mutant is against the will of God or nature. Are you and I inherently….**bad** because we happen to have been born this way?"

"No. And I'm not saying that Bobby---or Northstar---is a bad person. It just seems wrong to me," he said, emphatically.

"My view is that they care about each other and they're not hurting anyone. And it is not my place to judge. They are both kind and good people."

"I know, I know. Really, I do. And that's partly why I feel bad that I react this way." Scott took a deep breath. "Regardless of how I judge them, I'm determined to not treat them any differently than anyone else."

Jean nodded. "I see that you're struggling with this, and I admire that. Sometimes we have to grapple with the things that make us uncomfortable. But I tell myself that there are a lot of other things in life to get upset over-----like the treatment of mutants in FOH camps. I think if we're going to judge anyone or feel negatively towards anyone, maybe it's the FOH soldiers."

"You do have a point, my love."

Jean glanced at her watch. "We should head back. I sense that Charlotte is going to wake up soon." Scott nodded, and with that, Jean's powerful mind created a bubble and she floated them back down from the hills.

"Thanks, you guys," Jubilee said, as she picked up her daughter from Rogue and Gambit's care.

"Our pleasure, Jubilee," Gambit said.

"Mama!" Rory exclaimed happily as the Cajun handed her over to Jubilee. Rogue and Gambit turned to leave the rec room that they and Aurora had been staying in. "C'mon, Sugar," Rogue said, reaching for Gambit's hand.

Jubilee couldn't help but to hear snippets of their exchange as they exited the rec room. "You want to catch the rest of de evening an' watch de sun go down?" "No, Sugar, I think it's high time we headed for our room and made sure the bed springs are still in order." "Ah---dat sounds even better, chere." Although the couple couldn't see her, Jubilee forced herself to smile.

`Why did I do that?' Jubilee wondered. `Why make myself smile?' She shook her head as she carried Rory back to her room. `Of course I am pretty happy most of the time.' Her walk in the woods with Logan had cheered her up----well mostly. She loved him dearly but wasn't about to confide in him regarding what was bothering her lately. If she did, it would have only made him angry and upset himself. She didn't want to deal with that. But she did have a good idea of who she could speak with----but she needed to first tend to her daughter.

Jubilee reached her room. She loved the personnel quarters on An'zhina----they were not only more spacious than the ones on Freedom but also more beautiful and less utilitarian. Try as she might, Jubilee could never forget that her room on board Freedom was a room meant for a soldier on a mission of pure terror and hatred----hatred that she herself had born the brunt of at one time. She did not dwell on that fact all the time but it did remain in the back of her mind frequently.

Jubilee held her nose as she changed Rory's diaper. The baby was at a very "squirmy" age, and she moved all about. Rory could pretty much walk on her own when she wanted to, and at one point, Jubilee had to chase the girl around the room as Rory had the new diaper half on and half off. At last, Jubilee managed to secure the fresh diaper on Rory. She guessed that Gambit and Rogue must have played with Rory quite a bit as the child was a bit more tired than usual. Jubilee began to read a story to her, as she did every night, but before they reached page 5, Rory was sound asleep. Jubilee kissed the girl and placed her in her crib.

Somewhat tired herself, Jubilee reclined in the comfortable, cushiony chair in her room. She then tapped her communicator. She needed some wisdom, had been needing it for a while

Storm arrived at Jubilee's room minutes later. The Wind Rider stood before Aurora's crib and planted a gentle kiss on the baby's forehead. "What a little doll she is," Storm whispered. "She looks like you."

"Thank you," Jubilee said.

Storm then sat down in the chair. Jubilee placed herself opposite Storm, sitting on the bed. "You said you wanted to talk. What's on your mind, Jubilee?" Storm asked.

Jubilee blinked as she admired the woman in front of her. When she'd first met Storm, she had not been awestruck by the older woman----Jubilee had been a brash, strong willed teen. But with every passing year, she admired the woman once referred to as the Weather Witch more and more. Storm was incredibly powerful and forceful when she needed to be---as well as regal and majestic. Bur at the same time, Storm was also kind and gentle and as easy to approach as one's own Aunt. Jubilee had no trouble understanding why Storm had once been worshipped as a Goddess.

"I've—uh---had something on my mind a lot lately," Jubilee began, speaking softly so as to not wake Aurora. She gulped and forced the words out. "Is it normal to think back to what happened? Because I still think back to it---sometimes I think of it a lot, and it still really bothers me."

"You're referring to what the FOH soldiers did to us," Storm stated evenly.

"Yes." Jubilee looked down and then met Storm's gaze again. "Sometimes it seems like you and Rogue and Jean have forgotten all about it. And maybe that's good, I don't know. But I keep thinking back to it and wondering if I'm the only one. And is something wrong if I can't get over it like you guys all have? I mean, sometimes I'm sitting around and it's a normal day but all these horrible memories will suddenly flood me at once."

"I think it is quite normal to remember it," Storm said. "It was the most traumatic thing you ever lived through." As she spoke, Storm subconsciously cued herself to distance herself from the incident. She preferred to keep it buried in the recesses of her mind. "Besides, we interact everyday with women who have been through the same thing----the survivors of the camps in England and Beijing that we rescued."

"Sometimes looking at some of those women just reminds me….of everything I went through."

"I know."  
  
"Storm, do you ever think back to what happened to us? I mean, you seem so over it."

Storm smiled and chose her words carefully. "I prefer to focus on helping the camp survivors as much as I can. I try to deal with them and their pain. But Jubilee, I think it is very normal for you---or any of us---to still be haunted, so to speak, by what happened to us." Storm turned her head towards Aurora's crib, because she thought she might have heard the child stir. But the baby remained quiet and Storm then asked, "Does looking at Aurora ever….cause you any pain?"

Jubilee sighed. Storm did not need to elaborate on her meaning. "Sometimes it does. It didn't used to though. Sometimes during the pregnancy I'd lay awake at night and wonder what the hell I'd gotten myself into and why I decided to go along with it. I worried that I might hate the baby. But I can honestly say that once I had her, I loved her and never thought of….her father. But lately, Storm, I have been thinking of it. Maybe it's because she's starting to talk now and even forming strings of words now. Sooner or later, she's going to ask about her father."

"We discussed some ways you can tell her, right?"

"Yeah, I know. I think when the time comes I'll handle it ok. But sometimes I look at Rory and I do remember stuff that I wish I could forget."

"How often do you think of what the FOH did to us?"

"Well, sometimes I go for several days without thinking of it. But sometimes it gets in my head and I think of it a lot….like several times a day and for days in a row. Sometimes we're all sitting in a meeting and that's what I keep thinking of, instead of the meeting."

Storm nodded, "Jubilee, perhaps we need another healing ceremony. Jean and Rogue and you and I are so used to helping the other women with counseling and sessions, I think perhaps we forgot to take care of ourselves. Maybe we should plan another healing ceremony."

Jubilee shrugged. "But what if I'm the only one who wants one? You, Jean and Rogue just seem so over it. Which I'm not like saying is a bad thing," she hastily added.

"Sometimes people live through things that they will never completely be over," Storm said, and for an instant the look in her eyes was very far away. Storm then began making plans for a get together with Jean and Rogue, and Jubilee noted that Storm then looked much more like her old self again.

Disclaimers etc

Chapter 2 


	2. Chapter 2

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 2

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 2

The morning after we arrived back home, we X-men sat around the huge, round table in the meeting room to discuss our future plans. I always loved this conference room---floor to ceiling windows allowed us great views of the surrounding foliage. I did tend to get a bit distracted by it though.

The first, and the main, question we discussed was how long to remain on An'zhina and when to return to earth for another rescue mission. The debate got heated at times and I'm not going to hash over the whole thing here.

"I thought we'd all agreed to spend time on An'zhina," Rogue was saying forcefully. "We decided on our way back here that we'd spend more than a few days!"

Wolverine was shaking his head. "Anything more than a week is too long. Mutants back on earth need us."

"That may be true," Angel said, "but we have to consider our needs as well. We need rest. We just came off of a very trying rescue mission in which three of our teammates were captured and we liberated less than half of the camp. We spent a few harrowing weeks trying to get you and Gambit and Bobby back. We've all been pushed too hard and are really in need of a rest break."

"He has a point," Nightcrawler added. "How productive on our next mission will we be if we are all so exhausted?"

"When you do return to earth," Cyclops said, "you will need to think through your strategy very carefully so we avoid a fiasco like last time."

"Now that the FOH have Pyro, Vertigo, `Gorgeous George' and others working for them, they're doubly dangerous," Jean added.

So we continued on like that. Wolverine was the most vocal advocate for pretty much turning around and returning to earth right away, but he was way outvoted. Almost everyone else wanted some down time. We eventually agreed to spend a month on An'zhina. Once the wild man found out it wasn't going his way, he stomped out of the room in disgust. No one went after him.

We also decided to use that time to consider different options for defeating FOH. As Storm said, "Our raids on the camps are just like spitting in the ocean----if you'll excuse my language. We need to dream up a long term strategy to defeat FOH and put an end to the camps." I sat there thinking, `Well, nice idea but how the hell are we going to do that when they control the military, the government, and the media on pretty much every continent on earth?' I didn't share my negative thoughts with the group, though I sensed I wasn't the only one feeling pretty pessimistic about the future of earth.

"Did you enjoy the latest poem I wrote for you?"

"Of course. It was beautiful. Uh….didn't I tell you that I liked it?"

"You did, however I wanted to ensure that you were sufficiently pleased with it. As you know, we are under orders to not replicate non-essentials such as flowers and candy. Therefore I have had to create new ways to express my affection for you."

"Well the poem was gorgeous. Thank you again."

"And you were satisfied with the candlelit dinner we had in your room yesterday evening, correct?"

"Absolutely. It was lovely. You always come up with great ideas."

"How often would you like me to tell you that I find you beautiful? Are you finding once per day to be sufficient?"

"Um….once a day is great. I'd say that's good. More often than that would be overkill."

"Is once a day **too** frequent? Should I instead aim for 3-6 times per week?"

"Well….let's go for between 3-7 times a week."

"Alright."

A pause. Some kissing.

"Panda, am I applying the correct amount of pressure to your lips? Also, my arms are not compressing you too tightly when we embrace, are they?" More of a pause. "Why are you laughing?"

"I'm laughing at you, Hank! You're adorable. And I appreciate the survey you're apparently giving me, but I will sum it up by saying that I am very pleased with everything you do and I appreciate it."  


"I love you."

"I know. I love you too, Hank." A pause. "Hey, Hank?"

"Yes, my dearest?"

"Since you were apparently giving me a survey, and since most surveys have a space for comments….I thought of a comment I have. There is one thing you could do that you have not done."

Eagerly: "What is that, my love?"

"What about replicating yourself some condoms?"

Shock. A very long pause. "Really? For us to use?"

Sarcasm. "No, for Rogue and Gambit to use! Of course for **us**, silly. That is….if you….want to."

"I do want to! Er---I mean, I hope that I did not sound overly eager. I mean, perhaps that would be appropriate. I mean, it would be nice if you think it would be nice. Um…..Oh my stars and garters….."  
  
"What? Don't feel pressure. We don't have to do it tomorrow. Or even next week. But maybe you wanna think of having them around? Perhaps during one of these kissing sessions things are liable to get out of hand, once you stop surveying me."

"….Y-Yes. Of course. No pressure. Um, Panda?"

"Yes?"

"I'll replicate the condoms. Um….is that truly your wish? That we use them at some point? I mean, you, um, want to?"

More sarcasm. "Well, I'm not asking that you replicate them so that we leave them sitting around forever." A smile. "I told you. We don't have to use them tomorrow. But," some fingers started playing with and scratching some fur, "maybe sometime soon, big guy…."

Jubilee tossed and turned in her bed. Sleep was elusive, as it frequently had been lately. She got up and made a trip to the bathroom. On her way back to the bed, she checked in on Aurora. The baby was sleeping peacefully in her crib. Jubilee kissed her lightly, and then climbed back into her bed. She turned the light off.

Pulling the sheets around her, she tried to lay still and think happy thoughts. She replayed so many of the happy times she and the other X-men had experienced over the years. Storm had suggested doing so might help, but it didn't. Lately, Jubilee's memories had been on rewind but not at the good parts of her life.

A haze of terrifying memories flooded over her. The voices were the worst part. Somehow she remembered the voices better---perhaps because she'd clenched her eyes shut for so much of the torture. "Why are we bothering to do this?" a soldier's voice rang in her head. "Mutie females are all a bunch of sluts. None of them are going to be virgins." Another voice had replied, "Yeah but mutie men are all impotent. Or fags. You don't know what we'll find. We should check because then we'll auction off the virgins and raise some money for the group in the process."

Jubilee remembered it as if it had been yesterday. She, Storm, Jean and Rogue being taken from the cell. As she had been marched down the hall, the soldiers prodding her and the others to move faster, Jubilee had known in the pit of her stomach why they'd been singled out, what was going to happen next. Her throat had gone dry. She looked from Storm to Rogue to Jean but none appeared to have an answer. No one was going to fly through the air and save them. They weren't going to get out of this one. When Rogue tried to resist and not walk with the soldiers, they used the collar on Storm—torturing her—to get Rogue to comply.

The four women had been brought to a small annex to the larger room where they would be raped. "Let's make this clear, whores," the FOH leader had begun. "You're going to cooperate with us. If you don't, we'll take your boyfriends in there and slowly dismember them, one by one. I would look forward to the chance of getting to chop off their fingers or their limp dicks and I'll do that if you don't do what we say. And we'll start with the bald guy in the wheelchair. Got it?"

Jubilee remembered that Rogue had still tried to fight back. She'd yelled out a string of obscenities, but the guards then used the collar device on her. Rogue screamed in such pain that she blacked out for a while. Her hands shaking, Jubilee had looked from Storm to Jean. Jean's eyes were closed and she appeared to be praying or repeating something silently to herself. Storm's expression was blank. Jubilee had been too terrified to cry just yet.

They were ordered to undress. Jubilee blinked mutely as Jean and Storm did as told. She followed suit. The guards tore the clothing off the semi-conscious Rogue. One guard grabbed Jean by the hair and threw her down onto what looked like an examining table. He stuck his fingers inside her. He wore no sort of protective gloves as he roughly examined her. "Figures," he muttered. "She's wide. I told you they're all a bunch of sluts." The process was repeated for Storm. Jubilee had to shut her eyes. She couldn't see her majestic goddess taken down like this.

They grabbed Jubilee next. She screamed as her body was invaded by the man's fingers. "Well what do ya know?" he exclaimed. "This one's a virgin!" One of the other soldiers, disbelieving, stuck his fingers inside Jubilee as well. She screamed again. Apparently still in disbelief, they stuck some sort of probe inside Jubilee to get confirmation that her hymen was still in tact. This was horrifying. This was the most degrading and disgusting thing she'd ever lived through. It was unbelievable. How could another human being do something like this? The worst was yet to come.

When they were done with her, one guard grabbed her and threw her down, off the table. Jubilee landed on the floor. She curled up into a ball, the tears flowing freely. Vaguely she heard the guards express more shock as they examined Rogue. Jubilee jumped as she felt a pair of hands on her, but then realized the brown hands belonged to Storm. "It is alright child," Storm whispered. "We will get through this. We----" Storm had been silenced when a soldier rammed the butt of his gun into her mouth. Storm wiped away the blood from her lips. Jubilee returned to her ball position on the floor and resumed crying. `Maybe this is all a nightmare,' she had told herself as she squeezed her eyes shut and attempted to block the tears. `Any second now I'm gonna wake up.' Her attempt to fool herself was thwarted when the FOH leader barked for them to get to their feet.

The four were then brought into the room and the guards led them to standing on the raised platform. Hundreds of soldiers were in that room, leering and yelling, making lewd gestures, grabbing their crotches. Jubilee had never stopped crying but a new wave of tears now washed over her. She looked over at Storm, daring to hope that the Wind Rider had some secret plan to get them out of his indescribable hell. But Storm's eyes reflected pure terror and Jubilee saw her shiver. "Goddess help us," Storm murmured.

The crying of Rory brought Jubilee out of her memories. She sat up in bed and then scrambled over to her baby. Holding the child in her arms, she shushed her until Rory quieted back down. Jubilee didn't even realize that she herself was crying again.

`Will I ever forget this?'

We'd been on An'zhina for just a couple of days now. For a while, I had been mulling over something that I needed to do but was dreading. One morning, I decided enough with the mulling--- I had to get to it.

I tapped my communicator to reach Hank. He wasn't in the infirmary at the time but said he'd be glad to meet me there. We both reached An'zhina's infirmary at the same time. "Is anything wrong?" he asked as we entered.

Noting that Panda and Ramon were both milling around the infirmary, I gestured towards one of the private rooms. The medical center on An'zhina was bigger than the one in Freedom and had several private areas. Hank and I entered the smallish room that served as his office in this informary and the door slid closed behind us. He and I sat down, facing each other. The look on his face was clearly one of concern.

"Don't be alarmed," I said. "But I need your help with something." I paused. Damn this was not going to be easy. "Uh, can we for a moment talk as doctor and patient rather than as two friends?" I asked.

"Of course," Hank said, sounding puzzled but game.

"Uh, Dr. McCoy, I need you to test me to see if I have any sexually transmitted diseases."

He didn't blink or budge but continued to look at me steadily and with concern. "There are a number of different tests that I can perform, Mr. Drake. We can do so right now. But it would be helpful if I had some information from you."

I nodded. "What sort of information?"

"Well, Mr. Drake, it would be helpful if I knew why you think you might have a sexually transmitted disease, where you think you got it from, and then there are some more specifics that would be helpful too. Are you showing any symptoms? Do you feel unwell?"

"No, not at all. I feel fine. I'm not the least bit sick. But….for the past few weeks, I've been thinking that I should get tested. I---uh---," no, this wouldn't be easy at all. "Uh, Hank I did some things that I really regret. When I was a prisoner on Ceti III, I had sex with one of the other prisoners."

"I see. Was he from earth?"

"No. I mean, he looked pretty human and all, though he had like ridges on his forehead or something. So he definitely wasn't from earth." I put my hands up, "Look, Hank, I know it was really stupid of me. I really regret it. I'm not trying to make excuses but our life on Ceti III was pretty miserable and that was like the only time you could forget how bad it was. And it had been more than two years for me since I had it so I was easily persuaded and….."

"Can I address you as a friend rather than as your doctor?"

"Sure."

"I don't judge you, Bobby. Who knows what anyone would have done under those circumstances? So you do not need to explain yourself to me."

"You don't like hate me or think I'm an idiot or a total slut?"

"Not at all."

Even though he was reassuring me, I felt I had to go on and explain myself more. "I wish I hadn't done it. I had vowed a while ago that I was only going to have sex with someone I was in a relationship with and that I cared about. I think just my defenses were really down. And really, I was miserable on Ceti----all we did all day long was work. The only semi-enjoyable things were sleeping and eating, though you couldn't get a good night's rest with everyone talking and sleeping on some rolled-up dirty bedclothes with bugs crawling around. And the food was pretty gross half the time. And this guy was really persuasive---well, we didn't speak the same language but he was persuasive enough."

"You truly do not need to explain yourself. I'm not angry at you. So let us get on with the matters at hand," he said, reaching for the computer and pulling up some screens. I knew that over the past few years he had become somewhat of an expert on sexually transmitted diseases, given how many survivors of mass-rape he had been dealing with. "So, you say the man you had sex with was not from earth. Is there anything about his background you know that might be helpful. Was he sleeping with anyone else?"

I basically couldn't answer any questions about the guy's background. That last question really made me gulp though. Chance were, he was sleeping with others. And who knows where any of these guys were from and what sort of virus I could have picked up. Fine mess I got myself into.

"I must ask this next question," Hank was saying. "What did you and he do together?"

I was tempted to make a joke but nothing came to mind and I decided to just answer the question---I knew what he meant. "We had oral sex with each other. We didn't do anything else."

Hank nodded and made some notes. He told me something which I already knew---oral sex was less risky than some other activities. Hank then took a blood sample from me. "Sexually transmitted diseases," he began, "at least the ones on earth, can take some time to incubate. I am making a note to test you again in six months. By tomorrow, we should know the results of this test. Even if this test is negative, I would like you to tell me if you start to feel at all unwell."

I nodded. "Thanks, Hank. If I start to feel sick, I'll come to you." I paused, "I suppose I don't need to ask you to not tell anyone else."

"As your doctor, I keep all of your medical information strictly confidential." He paused and then looked at me. "As your friend, however, might I suggest that you tell Northstar," he added.

I looked at my shoes. "I know. I haven't yet. Of course he and I haven't done anything yet…..But I suppose I gotta before we do." I sighed. "Man, I wish I could turn back time and take this back!"

Hank patted me on the shoulder. "We all do things we regret. Do not berate yourself, my friend. Coming to me and getting tested was the right thing to do. You are taking responsibility for your actions and dealing with what has already been done."

I stood up to leave. "Hank…thank you."

Wolverine was working outside, in the massive clearing which was the backyard behind the main complex. The toys he had carved for Rory and Charlotte had been big hits, so he was working away at making more. He had even approached Stephan, asking if the boy might like him to create something. The youngster responded as he always did, barking at Wolverine to back away.

The wind shifted direction subtly and he picked up on a scent. Someone was approaching. His **mate.** By instinct, his brain told him that the scent belonged to the woman who was now his mate. Logan shook his head, knowing he had only reacted with that thought because of the sexual relationship they had----nothing more.

Storm silently observed the skill with which Wolverine worked his blade. He never came close to nicking himself with it, though if he did, it would not have mattered. His healing factor would have taken care of any injuries. Storm walked through the grass, delighting in the feel of the blades against her bare feet. An'zhina had experienced some rare rain for a short while that day, and the damp grass felt refreshing. Storm inhaled the clean-smelling air. She gazed at Logan. He was such a vision of masculinity. His shirtless, muscled form and powerful back and shoulders.

"You work quickly," she said, picking up one of the finished pieces. It was a set of stacking rings. "And yet the quality is so good."

"Thanks, Storm," Logan replied, barely looking at her as he worked away at a clacker. Storm could easily detect that he was in a grumpy mood. `So what else is new?' she asked herself.

"I think these toys will last a long while, the sturdy craftsmanship."

Another muttered reply, "Thanks."

Storm knew enough that he wanted to be left alone, but she had to let him know that she cared. She placed a hand on his arm. "Talk to me, Logan. I can tell that you're upset."

Wolverine exhaled a deep breath and looked at her. "Of course I'm upset! We're here vacationing when mutants on earth are suffering! What a load of bullshit. Everyone's turned into a bunch of lazy asses."

Storm had seen Wolverine irritated many times, but even she was stunned at the vitriol in his voice. Flustered, she groped for a reply. "You must be very angry over this."

"Damn right." He resumed his work on the toy, turning away from Storm.

"Wolverine, everyone needs a break. We….we're only **human**. You yourself lived through a traumatic experience. It is good to recognize your limits and rejuvenate."

"Rejuvenate my ass. Our people are being tortured and killed while we bask on beaches and sightsee on hills." His voice overflowed with disgust. "Not for me."

"Nightcrawler made a good point at the meeting. We might do more harm than good if we go into our next battle weary and un-rested."

"I don't need no fuckin' rest."

"The rest of us do. We're not machines, and neither are you."

Wolverine turned away from her, indicating their discussion of this topic was finished. He had approached Marrow earlier in the day, knowing that Marrow shared his eagerness to return to earth. The two had seriously toyed with the idea of stealing a shuttle and launching their own rescue mission. But they aborted their plans, realizing how slim their chances of success were without the other X-men, without Freedom.

"I've missed your visits to my room."

Wolverine listened to Storm's admission, knowing it had to have been hard for her to say those words. Since Logan had been rescued from Ceti III, Storm had not initiated any lovemaking. Wolverine had once, a few days after he had been back on board Freedom, but Storm had declined, saying she was not in the mood that day. Wolverine could hardly remember a time she had turned him down, and he had not asked again. He didn't know what to make of her apparent lack of interest. Only a couple of weeks had gone by since the rescue, but it had gotten to the point where Wolverine didn't want to be the first one to ask again. That afternoon, he realized how glad he was that Storm had said those words.

"I've missed it too, darlin'."

Gingerly, Storm placed her arms around Logan. He closed his eyes and drank in her scent, her longing. "It might put you in a better mood….," she suggested, her voice smooth and sweet as honey.

Wolverine found himself returning the embrace. "Darlin', you always do." `Damn it,' he thought. Storm felt so damn good, touching her felt so good. He fought it, fought the beating of his heart. `It's just sex,' he told himself. 'It's just fucking.' He craved her so much, telling himself it was just the call of his loins doing the craving.

"So would you prefer now or later tonight?" Storm asked.

"Now."

"Me too."

Wolverine picked her up and carried her into the thick of the woods, where they would have some measure of privacy. The ground was damp, but Storm's cape provided a warm barrier. Logan's senses were afire as he found himself enveloped in her. It was like….coming home again as he sucked her nipples, licked and nibbled her lips and her face. Soon he was buried between her legs, tasting her musk and delighting in her cries as they built in pitch to a crescendo. He mounted her and thrust inside her eagerly. And though he usually tried to be quiet, he howled with joy when he came. He was hard again in a matter of seconds, and they were soon shifting positions, Storm hungrily swallowing him, her head bobbing up and down as she pleasured him. Wolverine touched her hair as she did this, running the silky soft strands through his fingers. Storm smiled as she climbed on top of him and he played with her breasts as she rode him. They came again, this time together and even more loudly than before.

Storm had been right. Wolverine was now in a much better mood.

Meanwhile, another couple was making use of the beautiful outdoors on An'zhina. After a long afternoon, which had included a flying excursion and a hike on foot, Rogue and Gambit stopped for a breather. "Gambit's so tired," the Cajun breathed as he rested his head in Rogue's lap. Rogue sat against a tree and ran her gloved fingers through Remy's hair. "Dis feels so good."

"You gonna be takin' a nap, Sugar?" she asked, teasingly.

His reply was to nuzzle his head against her lap and arrange his limbs in a more comfortable position. "It's paradise here," Gambit said. "Dis beats mining any day."

"I'm so glad to have you back from those mines," Rogue murmured. She wished she had a collar with her. Stroking Remy's auburn locks would have been more enjoyable had she not needed to wear gloves then.

"We better enjoy dis while we can. Before we know it, our month gonna be up and we go back to earth."

"Well, don't you think you and I outta sit this next one out?"

Gambit lifted his head, thinking perhaps he had misheard her. "What?"

"Remy, when you were gone, I told myself that if I ever got you back, I wanna retire from the superhero business. Don't you think we earned a break?"  
  
"We getting our break now. A month on An'zhina to rest. Den we gotta go back and help the other mutants. Chere, you weren't serious `bout retiring from the X-men, were you?"

"I don't wanna permanently retire. But I do wanna take some time off. Remy, we got a weddin' to plan. And we deserve a rest, some time to spend together just being a normal couple. And we came so close to losing you. Can't we take some time off?"

"But chere….dere are mutants back on earth who need us. Dey suffering and dey need to be rescued."

"There are plenty of other X-men. Look, Remy, can't we just sit out one mission? We can have some time together, to really enjoy each other. We can rejoin the X-men on the next mission after that."

Gambit sat up, his restful mood broken. "Chere….it's wrong. It's wrong to sit back and do nothing when people need our help."

"We won't be doin' nothin! We can help Scott and Jean run An'zhina and help the citizens here recover. You know Cyke and Jean gonna have their hands full with another baby. Every time I talk to one of `em, they say something `bout how busy they know they're gonna be. So we can help them and help the people of An'zhina."

"No, chere. The mutants on earth need our help more dan dat. We gotta be where we needed the most. We----"

"But what if you get captured again!"

"It won't happen, chere."

"How do you know that?? I almost lost you!" Rogue exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes. "Damnit Remy, I've lost so much and I ain't losin' you again! I almost went crazy with worry when you were captured and I ain't goin' through that no more! How can you be serious about wantin' to go back to earth?? And I wanna start plannin' our wedding…." The tears were now flowing freely and Rogue became too choked up to continue talking.

"Chere," Remy began gently, "we get married someday. And we will spend time together. But Gambit can't sit around and sit out a rescue mission when dere are people dat need us."

His words had no effect on her. Through a haze of tears, Rogue leapt into the air and flew off.

I was able to put the fears of disease out of my mind for a bit. Jean-Paul came up with a great idea. He knew of my love for gardening, and he also knew that many of the X-men and other mutants cared for neither replicated food nor for the fact that we were so reliant on the food replicators. So just to be safe, Professor X asked Teleris (Queen Marina was still occupied in all-day meetings with her Council) if we could start a garden on An'zhina. Teleris basically shrugged and said that we could do virtually whatever we wanted on An'zhina.

So it was perhaps three days after we returned to An'zhina that I announced to all of its citizens the plans for a garden, and that very afternoon I ended up working away with about 12 others who were interested (no other X-men.) Some of them had gardening experience and some did not, but they all wanted to help. Northstar's sister tried to get her son interested in helping with the garden, but Stephan refused to have anything to do with it. Jean-Paul himself was hampered by the fact that he lacked one arm, but he sat outside that first afternoon, watching us make the garden come alive.

Jubilee also showed up for a bit. "It's so beautiful out here," she was saying as I worked away. She stood and whirled around, spreading her arms out. "I love being out in the sunlight and feeling the fresh air. And what a cool way for us to commune with An'zhina, really start to make it our own. And gardening seems like a great way to bring the members of this colony together!"

"Hey, Jubes," I said, "would you help me spread this dirt out over those rows there? They need a bit extra."

Jubilee looked down and said, "Oh, I dunno, Bobby. I hate getting dirt under my nails!"

Jean-Paul and I looked at each other and chuckled. Jubilee and Aurora soon scampered off to join Colossus, Elena, Gambit, and Nightcrawler for a swim.

After several hours, I stopped to take a break. I sat down on the mat next to Jean-Paul and he handed me a bottle of water.

"It's coming along nicely, mon ami," he said.

I wiped my brow on a towel. "Yeah, it looks pretty good. Now there's enough gardening work for me to last a lifetime, since I still have the one on Freedom to tend to." I watched the other mutants working away. They all took direction from me well and seemed into it. We had a good mix of those we'd rescued from the camp in England and those from the camp in Beijing.

"I've never felt so useless," Jean-Paul said quietly as he watched the others. Basically, most or all of the gardening tasks required two arms.

"Jean-Paul….don't feel that way." It was stupid, but I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Well just how should I feel?" he asked, sounding a bit perturbed. "I can't do shit without this arm!"  
  
"That's not true!" I said emphatically. I paused and then added, "You were instrumental in the rescue mission on Ceti III."

"You flatter me," he said, smiling but still not looking pleased. "**All** of us were instrumental."

I scooted over towards Jean-Paul and put an arm around him. "Look, I'm sorry if I sound like I don't know what I'm talking about. I guess I don't. I don't know what it's like to lose a limb." I gently stroked his back. "Have you….spoken with the Professor? I mean, he's been through it all and-----"

"Thanks Bobby but I don't want to talk about it with him. He's going to talk to me about accepting it and I'm not willing to just accept it." He paused and smiled. "Bobby, I must ask you to bear with me if I fall into self-pity on occasion," he said, his face relaxing a bit.

"Now why would you ever pity yourself?" I teased, grinning. "You have such a wonderful, handsome boyfriend!"

"Ah---I was forewarned by others that you had a strange sense of humor! I see it now," he teased.

We laughed together for a bit but then he got serious again. "Actually, I do have a wonderful boyfriend and I am glad for it. But you yourself have seemed….a bit preoccupied lately. Is anything on your mind, Bobby?"

Damn. I hadn't told him yet about my little lapse in judgement in the mines or about my test for sexually transmitted diseases. The test results were negative but as Hank had said, diseases can incubate for a while. And who knows how an alien virus or disease might react or whether it was even detectable? I didn't think it was too likely that I had contracted anything given that we'd engaged in less risky activities….but who really knew? Anyway, I knew I would have to tell him someday but since we weren't any closer to hitting the sack together, I didn't have to say anything then. I just shrugged. "Not really. Just a bit worried about our next trip to earth," I fibbed. The next mission to earth was as far from my mind as earth was from An'zhina.

He nodded. Jean-Paul then added, "I thought Hank seemed a bit preoccupied too. He seemed that way during breakfast and yesterday during that training session too."

"Did he? I didn't notice it." I was chagrined to admit it, but it was the truth. I'd been so wrapped up in fretting over the possibility of having contracted something, that I'd hardly talked to Hank about any other topic. I felt kinda crummy about that and made a mental note to try to talk to my friend.

Shortly afterwards, Jean-Paul's communicator beeped. His sister invited him to go on a walk with herself, Stephan, Shaman, Silver Moon and Lily Pearl. Jeanne-Marie added that Stephan was in one of his better moods. At that last piece, Jean-Paul was eager to join them. He got to his feet, and I resisted the urge to help him up as I knew already he did not like that.

"I will see you at dinner, ami," he said. He and I exchanged a quick kiss on the mouth and Northstar was gone in a flash.

I turned to see that one of the mutants, a man named Todd, had observed our kiss----and he had a look of utter disgust on his face. I felt a flash of fear but then reminded myself I had nothing to be ashamed of. I got back to work, putting Todd out of my mind.

Storm, Jubilee, Rogue and Jean grabbed lunch together one day. Rory was left in the care of Wolverine and Charlotte was with her father. The four women took their meals and flew (with Storm carrying Jubilee and Rogue carrying Jean) to an area high in the hills. It was a cooler day than usual, and the women all had on either sweaters or jackets.

"Are you comfortable, Jean?" Storm asked.

"About as comfortable as can be," Jean said, settling into her position on their picnic blanket. "I apologize, though, if I won't be much help setting food out."

"I remember those last few months," Jubilee reminisced. "You feel like you've got a basketball in front of you."

"What I love is the point where you can't even tie your own shoes," Jean said flatly. "And I'm not going to the trouble of shaving my legs anymore at this point."

Jean and Jubilee continued to do some recounting of the challenging aspects of pregnancy. Rogue observed the two, trying to fight back her fears. `Count your blessings----I might not ever be able to have a baby….' she thought. She forced herself to put the quarrel she'd had with Remy out of her mind for now, not wanting to deal with it. Last night, she and Remy had shared the bed as always but hadn't spoken to each other.

Storm listened to Jean and Jubilee too, content with her life even though it never included motherhood.

The food was spread out on the picnic blanket and the women began to eat. "I think it's wonderful that Bobby's starting a garden," Jean said, enthusiastically. "His veggies are really good. When I'm feeling better, I hope to be able to help him." `If I ever have any spare time,' Jean added silently. With two babies and almost 200 camp survivors to care for, she knew her days ahead would be busy ones.

"I like `em too and I like the little bit of gardening I've done," Jubilee said, "but I hate to admit that I can't really taste the difference between the gardened stuff and the replicated."

"Ah, Jubilee, there is a world of difference," Storm mused. "The replicated food tastes flat, manufactured. The food from the gardens is fresh and full of life."

"But they're both equally good for you, right?" Rogue asked.

"I did quite a bit of reading on the topic," Jean said, "since I'll soon have babies eating replicated food all the time. The replicated food is supposed to have enhanced nutrition."

Storm smiled as she took a bite of her sandwich, "I don't doubt that but my instincts tell me that the natural food is truly better for us."

"I do agree," Jean said.

"Hey, Jean, you still convinced that you're having a boy?" Jubilee asked.

"Oh, I didn't tell you!" Jean replied, her tone taking on an excited nuance. "Since I was so convinced it was a boy, Scott and I decided--what the heck—let's find out for sure. So Hank ran a test this morning and the baby is a boy. We had originally wanted to be surprised like we were the first time, but figured since I was so sure, it couldn't hurt to find out."

The women continued to talk for a while as they made their way through their lunch. Once sandwiches and crackers were eaten, Rogue eagerly dug through the picnic basket for the cookies and passed them out. "Oooh----we got some peanut butter ones! My favorite," she enthused.

"Well," Storm began, getting down to business "you all know that our lunch today isn't purely social. We do have some things to discuss." She turned her head towards Jean. "Any updates on the rescuees from Beijing?"

Jean had been charged with tending to the mental health of the rescued mutants once they reached An'zhina. She was assisted by the Professor, Moira, Storm and others but Jean had asked for the role of the lead on this. "Not really. Keep in mind that they've only been here three full days. We have to have realistic expectations. But I sense what all of you sense—and know—without the benefit of any telepathy. They are severely depressed and feeling such overwhelming **shame.** Only two of the 21 rescued women have experienced any counseling whatsoever since their rescue." Jean looked at her friends, sitting in a circle. "As you all know, we cannot force the process. If they do not wish to work with us on healing, we can't force them."

Storm nodded. "Yet at the same time, we need to prevent any more suicides." One of the former prisoners from Beijing had killed herself shortly after being freed by the X-men. It had been a horrible blow to the group, especially since the team had all been so preoccupied with the capture of Wolverine, Gambit and Iceman.

"I do mental 'check-ins' with them every day, so at the very least I will be able to sense if anyone is depressed to that point. If I have to, I will intervene then." Jean looked at Jubilee. The young woman was no longer making eye contact with any of the others and just staring at a chocolate chip cookie. Jean inquired softly, "Is everything alright, Jubilee?"

"It must be depressing work, huh?" Jubilee muttered.

Jean nodded. "It is difficult. But the life of a mutant is not easy---we all know that."

There was silence for a bit. Storm observed Jubilee and determined that Jubilee might not bring up the topic that they were brought together to discuss, so Storm made the move. "We have all focussed so much on helping others because there is a need for that. But how do **we** all feel now?" After a brief pause, Storm added, "I'm referring to the assaults that we ourselves lived through at the hands of FOH."

Rogue shrugged. "I guess I kinda feel over it. It was two years ago. I just want it behind me and to forget about it. Which is really hard since we gotta play therapist with any of the mutants who want it." She hastily added, "Not that I'm complain' and I'm glad to help. But if I had it my way, I'd just forget about the whole damn thing. What don't kill you makes you stronger, and I'm stronger now." Rogue then turned and looked at Jean, who was sitting to her left.

Jean tilted her head back and then looked at the group. "I feel that I will never forget it. It was one of the worst things I ever lived through. When I think back to it, I feel such deep….anger. And anger is not an emotion that I express much or that I dwell on. I no longer feel sad or scared or the least bit ashamed, just angry. If anyone ever did something like that to Charlotte…..I cannot even imagine how I would react." As she said that last sentence, she knew that she now understood how Rogue, Gambit and Wolverine had been able to execute the FOH soldiers. If anyone ever did something like that to her daughter, Jean suspected that she might have done the same thing as the others. "But to be honest," Jean continued, "I don't think about the rapes that we lived through much---hardly ever. I feel that I've moved on, and I just want to focus on helping those who come to me for some counseling."

Storm was next. "I would say my reaction is very similar to both of yours. It certainly was horrible, and it makes me very angry too. I do feel that I have worked through my pain and put the incident behind me."

Jubilee crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I guess something's wrong with me then." Her voice sounded cold and shaky as she said the words. Rogue was taken aback; her younger teammate did not sound like herself at all. "`Cause I do still think of it. And sometimes at night I cry and sometimes I'm scared. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I see their faces and hear what they said to us and I can't get it out my head." Jubilee squeezed her eyes shut as if trying to evict the horrible memories from her mind.

Within a flash, Storm was next to Jubilee and putting her arms around her. "There is nothing wrong with you, Jubilee. It's alright to feel the way you do."

"There is no `correct' reaction to something like this," Jean said, her voice soothing and understanding. "There isn't one wrong or right way to react."

"Well how come all of you seem to be over it?" Jubilee asked. Her face was resting on Storm's shoulder but she was determined to not cry, and so far succeeding.

"Because people are all different, hon," Rogue said. "It's okay." She paused. "Look, sometimes I do get those bastards in my head and I see and hear the things they did and said. But I just chase it out of my head or go for a round in the Danger Room. That usually takes care of it."

"When I have those sorts of memories," Jean began, "I just think to how my life is now and feel much better. On earth it sometimes felt like everyone hated us. But think of the Endarians and how hospitable they have been to us. And I also think of the kindness and caring of the rest of the team. That makes me feel better."

They continued to talk and tranquilize Jubilee with comforting words. And as much as she knew she wanted to be treated as an adult, Jubilee had to admit that it felt good to have Storm hugging her and stroking her hair. After tending to a baby for most of the day, Jubilee felt nourished, letting someone else do the nurturing for her.

"So, where do we go from here?" Storm asked. "What can we do to help you feel better, Jubilee?"

"How the hell should I know?" Jubilee asked, partly in a flip tone and partly serious. She giggled, realizing how her reply sounded. Rogue returned her smile.

"The answers are often within," Storm said seriously, taking the words right out of Jean's mouth. "We often know best how to heal ourselves. What would you like, Jubilee? What would help erase those memories?"

Jubilee bit her tongue to keep from saying what she wanted to. Months ago, Storm had tried to help Jubilee with what it was she'd thought she wanted, what it was she thought would help. But Wolverine had not agreed to it, and that had been the end of that. Finally, Jubilee began in a somber voice, "I really don't know, Storm. I don't know if anything except time can take care of it. And sometimes I worry that time won't heal this wound."

"Would it help if we had another healing ceremony?" Jean asked.

"I don't know if that would do it," Jubilee said. She added, to herself, that the healing ceremonies that the four women had usually ended up with discussions of sex. Jubilee used to find that interesting but now had no desire at all to hear how wonderful in bed that the other women's lovers all were.

"Would it help if you were to talk one-on-one with us?" Storm asked. "Or if you were to give us a call on those nights you said you end up crying?"

"It might help. But I—I don't want to wake you," Jubilee said.

"You can wake me any time," Storm said empathetically. "Anytime you need me, I will be there for you."

"Me too," Rogue said, eagerly.

"And me too," Jean added with a smile. "Besides, once Christopher is born, I'm not going to get any sleep at night anyway."

Jubilee nodded. "I might just take one of you up on your offer sometime."

Storm smiled and looked at the other women. "Is there anything else? It just seems…." An idea popped into her head. "What about a monument?"

"What?" Jubilee asked.

"A monument, such as the one being built for the mutants who were killed. I've spoken with several of those who have been working on the project and they all said it was amazingly theraputic for them. They said it truly has been helping them. Maybe we need something like that for ourselves. Not just the four of us, but for all of the women who have been raped by FOH."

Storm didn't need any empathic powers to sense that her suggestion caused quite a stir among the three others. Just reading their facial expressions provided that information.

Rogue looked down at her shoes. "I dunno, Storm. A monument? I mean….seems that this is something I want to put behind me, not put on display for the world to see."

"Yeah, like `Hey, world, I was raped!'" Jubilee said. "I don't know if that would help."

Jean looked from Jubilee back to Rogue. "I guess I agree with those two. I'm not ashamed of what happened, but a monument is so….public."

Storm took a deep breath. "I would argue that we could use and deserve some sort of tribute for what we survived. But perhaps the lingering feelings of shame really are there among us."

Rogue shrugged. "I sure ain't ashamed of anything. I just don't want a monument."

"What about something less public?" Jean asked. "One of the mutants we saved on our first rescue mission---you all remember Cathy, right?---has worked as an art therapist. She is helping several of the survivors express their feelings through different art projects. I think it is helping….for those who want to do it. A group of people are starting work on a mural," Jean continued. "They're using it to express their frustrations about the past and their hopes for the future. It's not specifically about surviving rape, though. Both men and women are working on it."

"Would we benefit from a mural of our own?" Storm asked.

"I got it!" Jubilee said, snapping her fingers together. "I think I know what would help. Er----it might help me anyway. What if we were to have a ritual where we…cleaned the room?"

"The room?" Rogue asked. Then it came to her, which room Jubilee meant. "Oh." Rogue raised her eyebrows and looked at the others. "I think I might prefer burning sage, girl."

Jean looked at her nails. "I haven't entered that room since….well, since we were rescued. It's been a while since I've spent an extended amount of time on board Freedom, but I often caught myself walking the long way around to avoid having to pass by that room."

"Me too," Jubilee said. "I think I do it all the time."

"None of us have even been in there since the assaults, have we?" Storm asked. No one had.

Rogue sighed. "The ship cleans itself. So we don't like **need** to clean that room, do we? I mean, it won't be dirty in there?"

"Not at all," Storm said. "Like all of the rooms on the ship that we don't use, the floors and walls get cleaned at the push of a button, air is regularly pumped in and out. But I assume Jubilee is proposing we do this more as a healing ritual than anything else. Right, Jubilee?"

"Yeah," Jubilee replied. "Maybe this way we can wash away the memories, get rid of them. Though I guess if I'm the only one still bothered by it, maybe the rest of you aren't interested in this, huh?"

"I would be interested in it," Jean said. "If you're still bothered by what happened, then so am I. And maybe Storm was right when she said that we might have some lingering shame about this, despite what we say."

"I think it is a wonderful idea, Jubilee," Storm said. "Count me in."

All eyes turned to Rogue. "Oh, alright! I guess I'll grab my bucket and cleanser!" She smiled. "It couldn't hurt."

"It looks like this matter is settled, then," Storm said.

Silently, Jubilee told herself that if she didn't see improvement after this ritual, she was going to ask the Professor to erase her memory of the event. Her sleep had not improved.

"Hey guys," Rogue began, looking at the three sets of eyes watching her, "not everything is settled for me."

"What's on your mind?" Storm asked. "You have seen preoccupied today."

Rogue sighed. "I need your thoughts on something. Is it….is it wrong for us to be sitting here? To be taking this month off before another rescue mission? I mean, Remy and I had a little argument over this. I really wanna sit the next one out. Stay here on An'zhina, start planning our weddin' and our life together. But he wants to go on the next rescue mission. What do y'all think?"

Storm nodded. "It is a dilemma. I know Wolverine feels very strongly we should head back **now**."

"He made his feelings quite clear at the meeting," Jean said, remembering how the Canadian had strode out once the rest of the group decided to take four weeks off. She hoped desperately that Wolverine would be alright, though he had been in such a foul mood since his return. Once she had tried to approach him but he'd brushed her off.

"It is a difficult question to resolve," Storm said, "and I see both sides. We do need our rest. We do need time to rejuvenate before we take on FOH again. At the same time….it is sobering to think that there are mutants living day in and day out what we're trying to heal ourselves from."

"Yeah," Jubilee said. "We were tortured for a matter of like four days. There are women right now being….abused by FOH every day, and who've been their prisoners for months." Rogue looked pointedly in Jubilee's direction, mulling over her words. She remembered some of the details she had heard through the grapevine, of female prisoners being strapped to the bed. She remembered what she lived through and tried to imagine experiencing it for months on end.

"Some of the camps have been open for a year now," Storm added. She shuddered inwardly.

Jean nodded. "But we are only human, too. I am caught in the dilemma myself. I want very much to help---and I think I do that by helping the rescued mutants recover---yet at the same time, I just want what a lot of women want. I want to spend time with my husband, raising our children, away from danger. So I completely understand where you're coming from, Rogue. There is nothing wrong with wanting some time out."

"You have been an X-man for a long time," Storm said, looking at the younger woman. "For virtually all of your adult life, and you haven't had a break ever. I would not hold it against you if you wanted to sit out the next mission. I do not think anyone would."

Rogue nodded mutely. Jubilee's words kept ringing in her ears. She thanked the others for their help and came closer to making a decision.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3 


	3. Chapter 3

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 3

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 3

"Well, what a shock to see you here," I said sarcastically, approaching Hank as he was bent over a series of vials and equipment. "The sun is shining, it's a gorgeous day out, you're in love and yet here you sit….in the lab. As usual. When you die, I think we outta bury you in the infirmary with an inscription like, `Here he lived…'"

Hank turned his furry blue face towards me. "For what it is worth, Bobby, I spent several hours this morning taking a long walk with Panda. We were able to enjoy the beautiful day, as well as gather some specimens of leaves and other foliage. And furthermore, I am making quite a bit of progress on this project and I need to devote some time to it every day."

"Whatcha working on?" I asked, craning my head around his large form. I don't know why I asked. I usually can't understand what he's talking about when he attempts to explain his projects to me. I came to visit him at Jean-Paul's suggestion the previous day that Hank looked distracted. I wanted to see if I could help.

"A chemical that might assist us with our next rescue mission. If this works properly, it will make soldiers lose the desire to fight. It will create a euphoria of sorts."

"A chemical? But FOH knows to wear gas masks now. Seems they have them on all the time when they know we're in the area, since they were ready for our last mission."

"I am working on something that could penetrate conventional gas masks."

"Wow." I was sincerely impressed. But onto more important matters and I had to tag onto his last sentence, "Say, speaking of penetration….so how's it going with Panda?"

"Bobby!" he said, placing his hand on the counter, firmly.

"Sorry----I know it was a tacky pun but I couldn't resist!" I grinned.

"Do you truly need to be so inquisitive about my love life?"  


"Just curious. You know I only want what's best for you. And I gotta scope out the competition and see how you're progressing." I had told Hank that others were betting on which couple would hit the sack together first. He had not wanted to know the details, but I knew the betting was really in full swing now because Colossus, Marrow and Ramon had all bet on Panda and Hank. Jubilee, Rogue and Gambit still had bet on Jean-Paul and I. For more reasons than one, I really hoped I wouldn't be letting my good friends down. "So----any news?"

Hank looked from left to right. We were alone in his lab, though a couple other people were milling about the larger infirmary. He got up and closed the door so we'd have privacy in the lab. He then sat back down, facing me and leaning forward. "I will share this with you, my friend, because you are my best friend and I know I can trust you to keep it confidential." He had quite a bit of eagerness in his voice and sounded a tad like the lovestruck teenager that he and Panda teased me that I sometimes resembled when talking about Northstar. "Well," he continued, "Panda and I were engaged in our usual affectionate activities the other day and-----"

"You mean you were making out?"

"Yes. And then she said….well she….she basically gave me the green light."

I was momentarily shocked to hear Hank use a slang term. I got over it and then asked, "Wow. Well, did you?"

"No. But she said that she would like to. Perhaps sometime in the immediate future. In fact," he broke off and reached deep inside a drawer, "she suggested that I replicate some condoms." He took out a packet but held it in his hands and wouldn't let me see it. I assumed they were the condoms but he wouldn't let me take a look.

"Cool! This is great. So you know now for a fact that she does want to, and she's not holding back because of what happened to her."

"Y-yes."

"But still you're holding back," I concluded. I just could tell from his demeanor that he was excited but scared as all get-out.

He took a deep breath. "I am almost ready. However, I have several fears. I think that they are perhaps unfounded and perhaps excessive, and yet I am now experiencing first-hand how paralyzing our worries can be."

"Alright, Hank," I said, sitting back and crossing one leg over the other. "What are you worried about? Tell me. I'm sure we can talk through them and shoot them down one by one. You said yourself that you know they are likely to be irrational fears. So talk." As I said the words, I knew Hank was in the mood to discuss this with someone. I could tell from the moment I entered the lab and then brought the topic around to Panda, he'd been wanting a chance to go over this stuff with someone. So I wasn't surprised when he did begin to talk.

"Well, you see….I am worried about the appearance of my genitalia."

I managed to keep my jaw from dropping open or from making a joke. This wouldn't have been the time because Hank was in really-serious-mode now. So I kept my expression placid and nodded. "Can you say specifically what about the appearance worries you?" Never having seen him naked, I didn't really know what he meant.

"Well, they are somewhat large."

"Okay. Well, she's a large woman, right? Don't you think perhaps her genitals are large too?" I was amazed at my ability to refrain from making jokes at this point. I don't think I'd ever had occasion to say the word "genitals" before too, but I sensed that using a slang term would not have met with approval from Hank.

"I have considered that to be a strong possibility. However, I do not know for certain. The condoms that I replicated for myself," he said, looking at the package he held in his hand, "are quite a bit larger than the ones that the others use. I could not even begin to fit in the regular ones."

"If I might ask….how big are we talking here? I mean, are you basically saying it's like…in proportion to the rest of you?"

"Oh, yes. I do not think anything is out of proportion."

"Well there you have it," I said, shrugging. "I'm sure that's fine. I bet everything's in proportion with her too. Hey….you might want to practice putting one of those condoms on, if you haven't before. The first time can get tricky."

"I have already done so."

"Hank, you old pro!" I said, smiling. He returned my smile and I went on. "So….what else is on your mind? Is there anything else worrying you?"

"Well, you see along the same topic….I am also worried about the color."

"The color? You mean of, uh, your genitals?" I deserve big points here for handling this so maturely and not giggling. Well….on second thought, I guess I am 32 years old though.

"Yes. They're black."

"You mean they're not blue?" I asked, surprised. At that point, Hank and I just broke down laughing. It wasn't that it was all that funny but I think we both needed a tension-reliever. So we cracked up.

"No, my friend. They're black."

"Oh. So like **why** are you worried about this?" I asked. We were both still laughing. "You think she's going to kick you out of the bed, all disappointed that your dick isn't blue??"

Hank laughed uproariously. Ramon knocked on the door, needing to use some of the supplies in the room. He acquired what he needed and left, giving us a strange look, as Hank and I kept on laughing. My sides were starting to hurt. I managed to add, "Hey, at least it's not like neon yellow…or striped! It's not striped. Or pink and blue polka-dotted!" We continued to laugh so hard that Hank was getting a few tears in his eyes.

"So, in conclusion," Hank began, once our giggles were subsiding, "you hypothesize that these are insignificant matters and that I am placing excessive worry over them?"

"Yes!"

"Should I mention it to her….Before we get intimate?"

"Well, Hank, I can't really think of a smooth way to work it into the conversation, can you?" I smiled and leaned forward. "Would you just stop worrying already?! It's going to be ok! Everything will be fine! You'll look back and wonder why you got so bent out of shape over this."

"You are right, my friend."

"Duh! Now go to it and get laid! Sheesh." I shook my head. "You're having much better luck than I am so far."

Gambit caught up with Rogue after dinner. The two made eye contact, and he walked over to her. "Chere, let's talk `bout dis. It's no fun if we stay mad at each other."

Rogue nodded. He was right. "C'mon," she said, gesturing towards the back porch of the complex. The largest porch swing was unoccupied and they sat together on it.

"Chilly evening," Gambit said, noticing Rogue shiver from the cold. "You want dis?" he asked, removing his duster.

Rogue nodded and gratefully wrapped herself in the warn garment. "You're not too cold, sugar?"

"No. But if it get any chillier, I might wanna go inside." He moved closer to her and placed an arm around her. "So, we gonna talk `bout our argument or we gonna go on not talkin' to each other?"

"We need to talk," Rogue admitted. They then both started to speak at the same time. Rogue smiled and insisted Gambit go first.

"Chere, you know dat I love you and wanna be with you. And I wouldn't have proposed if I didn't wanna marry you. But Gambit jus' feel strongly dat we gotta help mutants on earth."

Rogue nodded. "I hate to eat crow, but I been thinkin' `bout our argument a lot. I think you are right. There are mutants on earth suffering and we need to help." She turned towards him. "It's just that….I wish we could have it both ways. I wish we could help these folks but still get time together, time to be a normal couple."

"Gambit wish so too. But we were not dealt dat hand, chere. An easy, relaxing life ain't in the cards for us mutants."

"I know. Our people are in pain and we gotta help them all we can. But I get so jealous of…." She looked around quickly, ensuring no one else was in ear shot. "…of Scott and Jean. They're going to stay here and sit out the next mission, raise their children in peace. They're lucky."

"I know what you mean. But Scott and Jean, dey be older dan us. Dey were X-men longer and paid deir dues. But dey don't have it easy either. Cyke dropped everythin' to help wit' rescuing me and the others. And life here on An'zhina ain't exactly a breeze either. Gambit t'ink dat you and me both might get tired of takin' care of so many former prisoners."

"I just get so worried that you'll get captured again, Remy. I—I can't remember ever being so afraid last time the damn FOH got you. I didn't know if you were alive or dead. It was so horrible."

Gambit nodded. "You're right, chere. And if you were captured, I t'ink I'd go crazy wit' worry too. But I think we X-men be more careful dis time."

"We were careful last time though…." She allowed her voice to drift off.

"Look, chere. How does dis sound? After the next mission to earth, den we start planning our wedding? All the things we need are pretty much easily replicated. Maybe we can have the wedding on An'zhina, after the next mission? Or if preparing takes longer dan we t'ink, we can at least make most of the preparations."

"Now you're talkin', sugar! I like it."

The couple returned to their room, hand in hand.

Hank McCoy was more nervous than he'd ever been in his life. He also wondered how normal people dealt with it. `Of course, most people do not wait until they are 36 years old to begin their forays into this,' he mused.

He and Panda sat in her room, cuddled up together on the fluffy chair. Their large bodies overflowed from the confines of the chair, but they made it work. Panda sat on Hank's lap, kissing him fervently. She slid her tongue in his mouth and around his lips while aggressively scratching the fur on the back of his head, shoulders, and neck---a move which she knew he adored.

Several clues led Hank to believe that Panda would initiate sexual relations that evening. First, she had inquired about the status of the condoms and asked him to bring "a few" with him. He complied. Secondly, she had produced a nail clipper and trimmed his nails down a bit, saying "if they're too long, it could be painful when they touch certain sensitive areas." And thirdly, she had flirted with him excessively during the private dinner they'd shared, thrusting her tongue into his ear and murmuring about how delightful their evening would be. Evaluating these pieces of evidence together, Hank came to the conclusion that the woman he loved was going to make love to him.

"Oh my!" Hank exclaimed, as one of Panda's hands reached and fondled a sensitive area.

"Do you like this?" she asked, seductively.

"Oh….oh yes," Hank breathed. His whole body felt on fire. He could feel the heat burning his face and the blood rushing to his groin. His heart beat at a rapid rate, comparable to the rate during Danger Room training. This was so much better, he mused.

Panda continued to stroke the steadily swelling bulge. For several moments, Hank was paralyzed but then he regained his composure. He placed his hands back on her body, caressing with one hand and scratching with the other----he knew she liked that. He leaned forward and planted several kisses on her furry face. "I love you, Panda," he whispered.

"I love you too, Hank." She removed her hands and placed them on his shoulders. He pulled her towards him for a sensuous kiss. This time, Hank kissed back with as much passion and desire as she gave him. After several luscious moments, Panda broke the kiss off. She pointedly looked in the direction of her bed. It was big enough to accommodate them both. "Perhaps we should take this over there," she suggested.

"Yes!" Hank replied eagerly. He followed her onto the bed. The strong Endarian technology did not even creak despite that it was hit with over 700 lbs of weight when both Panda and Hank stretched out on it.

The couple lay side by side. Hank boldly reached a hand forth and caressed areas of her body he'd never touched before. Although she was still fully clothed, she seemed to enjoy it as his hand traversed her thighs, her belly, her breasts, her shoulders. "Mmmmm…." she murmured. "That feels really nice. You're a natural, Hank."

He smiled at the compliment. Although he was apprehensive, caressing her body felt wonderful. Panda continued, "It might be better if I took my dress off though."

Hank felt the tips of his ears burning as she reached for the outfit and discarded it. Panda favored two types of outfits: leggings with an oversized shirt or full dresses. The blue frock she'd chosen for that day was tossed onto the side of the bed. Deftly, Panda removed her undergarments as well.

Hank's eyes bulged. "You are beautiful, my love," he whispered. "I—I am so overwhelmed that I cannot recall any poetry to describe your loveliness."

She smiled. "I'll forgive you this time, Hank," Panda said wryly. She then took a pointed look towards his midsection. "Aren't your shorts getting a bit uncomfortable?"

"Why yes," he replied, earnestly. The normally dexterous McCoy found himself fumbling with the zipper. Panda reached over and easily unzipped the garment and helped him move it down. Soon, Hank had shed all of his clothing as well.

"You are so beautiful!" he exclaimed again, overwhelmed by her exquisiteness. For a few moments, he was stunned and had no idea what to do next. But in a flash, some of Gambit's suggestions returned to him. Hank placed his hands on her again and slowly touched her body. His hands fondled and stroked her plump thighs, her broad belly, her pendulous breasts. His eyes were wide with wonder and rapture.

Panda lay back and savored the touches. She also bit her lower lip to stifle a giggle. Hank was caressing her in a very meticulous fashion, almost in a methodical way. Not that she was complaining; it was just **so** Hank. She could tell he was enjoying it quite a bit though. Hank was so wrapped up in his probing of Panda, he did not notice her bemusement. As he touched her, she wrapped one hand around his hardness and rhythmically pumped.

Hank remembered Gambit's advice---pay attention to her breathing and other non-verbal cues to attempt to discern her level of enjoyment. Hank took a deep breath. It seemed as though Panda was enjoying the attention but it was hard to say for certain. Of course he remembered that he could always ask her if need be. The throbbing in his groin, exacerbated by the work of Panda's hand, was interfering with his ability to think rationally and he struggled to hold on to all of these thoughts.

At one point, Panda reached for one of Hank's hands. It was in the vicinity of her thigh, and she reached for it and placed it at her core. `She must be giving me a signal!' he determined. He began to stroke her wetness, very gently at first but more rapidly as the movement of her hips seemed to suggest. He also listened to her moans and again deduced that she was probably taking pleasure from this. But he wanted to be sure. "Panda?" he began softly.

"Mmmmm?" she asked, languidly.

"You are enjoying this, correct?"

"Yes, my love. Are you sure you haven't done this before?"

"I am positive. Um….Panda? Could you stop what you are doing with your hand? I – uh—"

"Are you enjoying it a bit too much?" she asked, teasingly as she withdrew the hand. He did seem to be throbbing quite a bit. Hank was worried he would orgasm too soon if she continued the motion of her hand.

Hank then maneuvered himself a bit further down the bed. He wanted to devote more time to his exploration of her as Gambit had advised long ago. Hank wanted to investigate her body in a way that he never would dream of doing with one of his patients. Panda spread her legs wider, allowing him. He continued to touch her, delighting in the wetness on his fingers, the sensual aroma of her, and the different colors and textures of her womanhood. He noted her clitoris, large and swelling and her plump vaginal lips, and the dark red color. He attempted to guess her reaction as his fingers stimulated the different parts of her---did she like best having her lips touched, her clitoris rubbed or a finger inserted? He gently inserted a finger within her and moved it out. Panda groaned loudly. Hank knew that the persistent wetness was a good sign. His powerful hands were getting just a bit tired, he noted, but this was so….provocative, so fascinating and so arousing, he did not mind. His confidence started to build.

"Do you think it's time to break out one of the condoms?" Panda whispered after a bit. She was more than ready and guessed that he had to be as well.

"Y-yes," Hank answered. He reached for his trousers, which were on the floor by the bed, and retrieved a condom from his pants pocket.

"Let me," Panda offered.

Hank lay on his back and smiled. One thing he had always loved about her was her initiative. And her confidence. Panda unwrapped the prophylactic and deftly rolled the it onto him. "You did that so easily," he observed.

Panda smiled. "Rogue showed me how to. She had me practice on a banana." Hank and Panda both then laughed at the thought. Rogue had bragged of her skills in this area, even telling Panda that she was able to roll a condom on using her mouth. But Rogue had added that she didn't recommend Panda try that her first time. Instead, Panda added, "Rogue---and Storm----told me about a lot of things they suggest we try at some point."

Hank continued to grin. He was now more ecstatic than nervous, though both emotions were coursing through him. "I am sure their suggestions will be good ones." He was glad Panda was talking to the other women about it. Perhaps it would save him from having to speak with Gambit about sex again. Not that he minded doing so, but it had been awkward.

"Sweetie," Panda began, ruffling some of his chest and belly fur, "do you mind if I get on top?" Storm had strongly recommended to Panda that for her first time, being on top would provide a better degree of control and help her physically get used to the sensation.

"Not at all. Um—please be my guest."

She smiled and swung her large form over him. Panda then bent down and kissed Hank's face. Their lips and tongues met again. She then reached her mouth towards one of his ears, and licked it.

Hank's eyes flew open and he failed to stifle a gasp as his lover lowered herself onto him. Indescribable. He had never felt these sensations before. His surprise quickly turned to concern. She was tighter than he would have thought she'd have been. He suspected that he was quite a bit bigger than the FOH dregs who had raped Panda. Would this cause her discomfort? Would she feel outright pain and even bleed? He lay perfectly still and struggled for the right thing to do or say. He then thought that perhaps he could ask her. "Panda," he began quietly, "are you----is this---okay?"

Panda forced herself to smile. This was more than a bit uncomfortable—approaching painful---and he was only partly inserted within. She took a deep breath. "I'm fine, Hank. I—I think maybe I just need to go slowly and take a minute to get used to this."

He silently nodded and took another deep breath. Hank detested the thought that she might be in pain but he didn't know what else to do. She seemed confident and steady enough though.

Panda closed her eyes and hovered above him for several moments. Then very gingerly, a tiny bit at a time, she lowered herself the rest of the way down and then remained motionless. Hank closed his eyes. He could feel himself throbbing and pulsing within her tight and wet passage. As urgent and pleasurable it felt to him, he was wracked with guilt as her physical discomfort was palpable. `Will she resent me for this? Perhaps I can tell her that we do not need to do this again if she does not want to? What if-----' Hank's train of irrational thought was cut off by the feel of Panda's lips against his own. She was leaning forward and kissing him in earnest.

And then slowly, very slowly, she began to thrust her hips. "A—are you feeling alright, my love?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "It feels better now….It feels good."

Panda continued the movement of her body, gradually increasing the pace. Hank lay back, mesmerized. This was incredible. When he had found himself falling in love with Panda at first, it had been a revelation to him----he finally understood what all the poems and plays and songs were about. And now this. This introduced him to a new world and helped him understand a whole other level of human experience. It was mind blowing, universe-expanding. Hank now pitied the man he had been; one who for so long denied himself even the notion that such a relationship might someday be possible. This sensation….it was paradise, it was heaven, it was like nothing else.

"Oh my stars and garters!" Hank exclaimed. To his chagrin, he found himself orgasming right then and there. His eyes flew wide open. By his calculations, he had only been inside of her for a minute or two. And Gambit had once told him that a gentleman allows the lady to come first. `Oh no!' Hank thought to himself. He felt the ejaculate spilling out of him and then felt himself gradually growing soft.

"Oh dear," Hank breathed. "I---I'm sorry! Truly, I am. I did not mean for it to be-----"

"Relax," Panda said, smiling. "It's okay." She slowly lifted herself off of him. Hank promptly removed the condom and disposed of it in the trash next to the bed.

"Panda, my love, I really am sorry. Perhaps it happened so suddenly because I am unfamiliar with the sensation. Next time I will be sure to exhibit better control."

"It's **okay** Hank," Panda said. "I'm not upset. Remember what we talked about? We're both so new at this, we knew it wasn't going to be like a romance novel the first time. We'll learn. But I—uh---am still feeling turned on. Maybe you could….."

"Have I ever told you that is one of the things I love about you? The fact that you do note hesitate to ask for something when you want it." Hank told her, smiling. He was starting to feel less ashamed; he believed Panda when she said she was not upset.

Panda rearranged her limbs so that she lay on her back. Hank eagerly faced her, smothering her body with kisses and bringing his hand right back towards her core. She guided his hand as he probed and rubbed her slippery wetness, inserting and rhythmically moving his fingers inside her as other fingers stroked her clitoris. When she came, he let out as big a yowl as she did.

The two lovers fell back against the pillows, laughing together in rhapsody. So many emotions were flowing through Hank----love, relief, delight. They remained together for the entire night. "Let us practice this until we get it right," Hank suggested. "Practice makes perfect!" Panda grinned. That night the couple eventually used up all the condoms Hank had brought with him.

I woke up to the sound of someone banging on my door. I had no idea what hour it was but knew it was well before my usual wake-up time. For a second, I thought I was back on Ceti III---if the prisoners didn't get up early enough, the guards would pound on the door and then beat us if we weren't on our feet quickly. Startled, I jumped out of bed like a hot potato until I remembered where I was.

It was Hank. Upon opening the door, I was fearful. Hank wouldn't come get me out of bed and come after me like this without using the communicator first unless we were in grave danger. Standing in the doorway clad in my boxers, I quickly located my uniform and was all ready to put it on. Then I took a good look at Hank, who was standing there grinning like an idiot.

"You did it!" I exclaimed.

We then sat on the bed and he told me all about it, like we were two teenage girls instead of two thirtysomethings. He spoke rapidly, I hung on his every word----and then, after not long, he scampered off to go be with her some more. Once he left, I sat back, smiling to myself and sincerely glad for him at last.

At lunchtime, Hank and Panda sauntered into the dining room where most of the other X-men and many citizens of An'zhina were already eating. Upon seeing the two, Bobby, Rogue, Gambit, Jubilee, Colossus, Marrow, and assorted others stood up and applauded. Hank's cheeks blushed violet with embarrassment while Panda could only shake her head and laugh. Various catcalls and comments were heard such as, "Woo-whooo!", "Look who got lucky!", and "We heard someone had a busy night." The happy couple was so joyful that they didn't care.

"Hank and Panda, mon ami, how could you do dis to Gambit?" Gambit asked.

"Yeah!" Rogue added. "Or should we ask, Bobby and Northstar, how could you **not** do this?"

"We bet on you!" Jubilee exclaimed, looking in the direction of Bobby and Northstar.

Colossus shook his head and chuckled. He went up to Beast and patted him on the back. "I knew you'd come through for me, Tovarish! I win the bet."

"Me too!" Marrow said. "You and Panda got some and we all get lucky!"

Hank continued to blush furiously. He turned towards Bobby and sighed. "Your speed of transmitting information to others---or, to use the vernacular, **gossiping**---is truly amazing."

The Professor, Moira, Banshee, Jean, Cyclops, Nightcrawler and Storm were sitting at another table, a less boisterous one. "What are they talking about?" Scott asked. "What bet?"

Jean smiled, "I don't think we want to know the details on this one, Slim."

The Professor, Cyclops and Storm sat in the central meeting room one morning. The X-men had been on An'zhina for about nine days now. The leaders of the X-men knew they needed to get down to business and discuss the team's future plans. The large meeting room seemed vast with only the three in it. Scott's daughter was with them, and she was cavorting around the room in a walker with wheels on it.

"The Friends of Humanity now have nine Containment Centers," the Professor was saying, "with three more set to open within the next two months. I scanned General Thompson's mind pretty thoroughly and I learned that the camps range from imprisoning about 200 mutants to 400."

"So we're looking at anywhere from 1,800 to 3,600 imprisoned mutants," Cyclops said, doing some quick calculations. "And who knows how many other mutants are out there, living on the run and trying to evade the FOH? And who knows how long they'll continue to be successful?"

"I wish we had answers to those questions. But one thing is for certain. Queen Marina once told us that the maximum number of people she could see An'zhina accommodating comfortably is 2,000. I even think that 2,000 is pushing it. Therefore we need to be cautious. Many see An'zhina as our permanent home. And it may very well be, but we cannot accommodate all mutants on earth, let alone their offspring for generations to come."

Storm nodded. "I see what you are saying, Professor. However, at this point, is that not the least of our worries? In two rescue missions, we only have about 200 rescuees to show for it. It will be a very long time before An'zhina is full."

"We do need to consider our long-term strategy before we make our short-term plans, Storm. If our long-term goal is or was to bring all FOH prisoners here, we need to realize that we cannot board everyone here indefinitely."  
  
"Is there any chance that Queen Marina will give us more space?" Cyclops asked.

"We can certainly ask her at some point," the Professor said. He had not spoken with the regent for quite some time. She was still involved in all-day meetings with her executive council and had not yet had the time to even greet the X-men as she usually did when they returned to Endarian space. "She has given us quite a bit already and I recall that she said all of Endarian's 16 other moons are inhabited."

"And her people are so xenophobic," Storm said. "This moon is the farthest from the planet Endaria and from the other moons. It is very unlikely she would ever let us settle on Endaria."

"Especially given that she won't allow us to even visit or have any contact with the other moons or the main planet," Cyclops finished, glumly. "Professor, are you then suggesting we consider a different long term goal?"

The Professor nodded. "We need to think of a way to stop FOH and make earth a safe place for mutants. I know that many of the X-men consider this unreasonable and many---if not, most---consider An'zhina to be our new home. However, given that An'zhina someday will reach its capacity and given that mutants will continue to be born on earth, generation after generation, we must find some way to turn the tide on earth." He paused and rubbed his temples. "I know what you both are thinking. That is a monumental task."

"It is," Storm said, nodding. "Everything we know of the current state of earth----from speaking with Moira or the other rescuees or from monitoring the earth's news programs----paints a very depressing picture. However, I see the wisdom in your words."

"I do too," Cyclops began. "But how----how can we begin to change things? FOH controls everything from the media to most governments and militaries---even the schools."

"I wish I had an answer, Scott," the Professor said. "But I don't. That is what we need to brainstorm on."

There was a pause. Then Storm spoke. "Psylocke suggested something to me the other day," she began. Upon hearing Psylocke mentioned, the Professor felt a jolt of pain. Back when the three X-men were being held prisoner by the Cetians, Betsy and Warren had taken a shuttle to An'zhina to request help from the Queen. Ever since Betsy had returned from that trip, she had refused to resume working with the Professor on her mental healing, despite the fact that he had nearly begged her to. In fact she refused to work with anyone, saying she was fully recovered from her ordeal as a prisoner of FOH. Ever since Psylocke's return, the Professor had sensed nothing but anger from her. Anger was, he understood, a logical and justified reaction to what had been done to her. The fact that she refused to deal with it, however, worried the Professor. Betsy had also ceased speaking with Warren now. The two had their own rooms now and one did not need to be a telepath to know that Warren was heartbroken.

"Her suggestion might seem….out of line, but I will propose it," Storm continued, looking at Charles. "We have three X-men who are extremely adept at the powers of the mind. You, Jean and Psylocke herself. Betsy suggests we---or **you**---use those powers to change the minds of FOH leadership. To make them realize that imprisoning mutants is wrong and to make them understand we are human beings. Entering their minds sounds like a violation, I know, but should we at least consider it? If you and the others could even plant a seed of doubt in some minds about the treatment of mutants….it could impact earth and make life better for mutants."

The Professor closed his eyes and nodded. His words surprised both Storm and Cyclops to a degree. "I have considered this, Storm. In fact, I struggle with the morality of this plan. It is, indeed, a violation to enter someone's mind without his consent. However….when I think of what the FOH do to mutants at those camps, and in dealing with the survivors myself, I seriously consider the notion that interfering with their minds might be the lesser of two evils. But I grapple with this. Two wrongs do not make a right."

"This is hard," Cyclops said, mulling over it himself. "But the violation that you would be committing----entering someone's mind without their consent----is far less harmful than the violations committed by FOH. I assume you can enter their minds without causing them any of the long-term physical and mental injury that they're causing mutants."

"Yes," the Professor answered.

"And that is quite different than the suffering they continue to cause mutants," Storm said. "Not to mention all of those who have been killed at the camps. Jubilee is still traumatized and still experiencing nightmares over what FOH put her through more than two years ago."

The Professor sat up in his chair. "Is she? I did not know this." For years now, Charles had been taking periodic mental "scans" of the X-men. He did not scan deeply or probe unnecessarily but he did it so he could sense whether someone was seriously depressed. Many years ago, one such scan had saved Bobby Drake's life. Iceman had been so despondent at the time that he had been ready to commit suicide. The Professor had saved his life just in time. The Professor would not have known the severity of Bobby's depression had he not been probing, because Bobby had been hiding his emotional state under a barrage of humor and practical jokes. Losing one of his X-men to suicide would have been such a crushing blow that since that time, Charles took a periodic reading of their emotional states just to ensure that no one was at that level of despair. Several years ago, he had helped Wolverine climb out of a severe depression. He had not sensed that Jubilee was upset to that degree or the degree that Bobby had been at, but it had been a while since he had performed the mental scan. "I will ask her if she would like to work with me."

"I do not know if that's necessary, Professor," Storm said. "She, Jean, Rogue and I are planning another healing ceremony of sorts. The three of us check in with her every day and she is generally good about communicating her needs. I am certain that if she reaches a stage where she wants more formal counseling, she will let us know."

"Very well."

"So where does this leave us, in terms of Psylocke's idea?" Scott asked, turning the discussion back to FOH.

"What do you think Jean would think of the plan?" Storm asked. "As far as I know, Betsy hasn't brought it up with her."

"I think she would approve," Scott replied. His mindlink with Jean would make his reply accurate, or very close to. "Not without some serious hesitation or without mulling over the moral implications of it. But I think she would go along with the idea if it could possibly prevent the future suffering of mutants and help the ones who are prisoners. She's worked with so many of the survivors herself." Scott paused and looked around. The next thoughts were his own. "Of course Jean isn't going near earth anytime soon. She's going to give birth in two months. If we decide to do this, it will either need to wait or….or is it something that you and Psylocke could handle alone?"

The Professor took a breath. "I think that Betsy and I could do it. I could probably do it alone. I know that Betsy has not been in the best mental state lately. It's all a question of how many minds we want to enter. If I were to work alone, it would simply take longer." Charles paused. "I still need time to consider whether this is a plan that I can support."

Storm nodded. "I understand your hesitation. This is a profound moral question. However, I do see many positives to it. We would not be placing any FOH members in harm's way or causing any violence. And the amount of violence that we could prevent is immeasurable."

Charles looked at her intently. "I will think about this some more. Interfering with their minds is not the moral thing to do. But it might be the **right** thing to do."

The X-men leaders continued to discuss other possible strategies for changing the condition of mutants on earth. They knew that if the treatment of mutants at the Containment Centers could somehow be exposed internationally, support for FOH would likely diminish. But none could think of a way to do this. One possible method could have been to have one person infiltrate the FOH and film the camp conditions. But the FOH now genetically tested all members and they allowed virtually no non-members anywhere near the camps. The only non-mutants living on An'zhina were Moira MacTaggert and Jeanne-Marie's seven year old son. Obviously neither of them made a good candidate for a spy mission.

They then considered strategies for liberating the next camp, a plan they could use regardless of whether the X-men ever used any mind control on FOH members. One thing gave them some hope. Beast was working on a chemical. This gas would be harmless, and it would cause people to feel happy and exhilarated, and not want to fight. The challenge was creating a chemical that would penetrate conventional gas masks. Beast said his work was progressing well, though he said it could be several more months before such a chemical would be ready.

"There is one more thing that I would like to discuss," Storm said as the meeting was winding to a close and lunchtime drawing near. "I know it is something we have touched on in the past but have never had the time to work on: The X-men need to begin training new leaders. We have many good fighters and good team members. I think we have a very strong team. But we need to prepare some new leaders. The three of us aren't getting any younger and I think it is time we coach and nurture others to lead. It does take some special skill and would be easier on people if they were trained and not simply thrown into a leadership role."

"You're absolutely right," the Professor said. "I do regret that we have not devoted more time to this. It is important."

"I agree," Cyclops said. "We need to train leaders both in the sense of new field commanders and those who can govern An'zhina."

"Let us begin considering candidates for both roles," Charles said, mentally switching gears. "Starting with field commanders. Who do you both see as good potential field commanders?"

Storm spoke first. "Wolverine. I think we have passed over him for too long as a potential leader. Over the past few years, he has gotten much better at working as a member of a team---and at controlling his….rages."

Cyclops placed a hand on his chin. "I don't know, Storm. If you look at Logan's past, he has clearly not liked working as a member of a team. I think a field commander needs to excel at teamwork, and this is not an area that he excels in."

"But Scott, try to put the more distant past aside. Think of the last 3-4 years. He has improved in this area."

Cyclops looked at the Professor. "But has he improved enough? I mean, he walked out of our last group meeting when we decided to stay here for a month."

"He doesn't particularly like meetings," Storm said simply. "In fact, he hates them. I think despite that incident, he has tolerated being in meetings fairly well. And remember, years ago when he was in Alpha Flight, they were considering him as a potential field commander. Their standards might not have been as stringent as ours, but still." Storm looked at Charles. "What do you think?"

"I think he would make a fine field commander," the Professor said. "The two of you have set the bar very high, and I think it is important to remember that we are considering candidates who we can mentor into leadership roles. They do not need to be perfect. No one is." That case was closed. "Who else?"

"Beast," Cyclops said. "He would make a fantastic leader. He doesn't like fighting---but none of us do."  
  
"I agree he would make a superb field commander," Storm said, "but I had been thinking he might prefer to be considered one of the leaders of An'zhina."

"I think he would do fine at either role," the Professor said. "I'll ask him which—if any---he would prefer."

"What about Rogue?" Storm asked. "She should be considered a possible future field commander."

"Rogue?" Scott questioned. "She's too impulsive. She doesn't follow orders all the time."

"Scott, I think you are again judging people too severely for the past. She was very young when she joined us, and she's matured a lot since then. And as the Professor said, our candidates do not have to be perfect now. But Rogue is brilliant in combat, and not just because she is one of the most powerful mutants we have seen. It is time that she be trained to lead others in battle."

"Alright," Scott said, still not sounding thrilled with Storm's suggestion.

The Professor said, "I think Rogue could and should be coached into a leadership role. But I question whether she wants that, as she expressed some ambivalence to me about whether or not to join us on our next mission. But I think she is a capable candidate. Anyone else?"

Both Cyclops and Storm mentally ran down the other X-men's names. 'Storm briefly considered proposing Gambit as well, but something held her back. Though she loved him as one of her closest friends, and considered him to be more than capable in the role, she felt that his tendency to ignore orders in favor of his own ideas, no matter how justified they where, could upset the balance on the delicate mission

After a while, Scott said, "I think those three are probably the best possible choices."

"Very well," the Professor said. "What about possible leadership of An'zhina? Who would help govern it?"

Scott said, "Well, Jean should already be considered a co-leader with me."

"Certainly," Storm said. "What about Moira MacTaggert? If she wants to permanently reside here."

Charles knew what Moira had been telling many—include himself--- for the past few days. Siryn was so overjoyed at being reunited with her father that she adamantly wanted Banshee to remain on An'zhina with her. Banshee adored his daughter. If Siryn wanted him to stay on An'zhina, he was staying. And Moira would not leave Banshee's side either, not after thinking him dead for so long. "Yes," Charles said. "Definitely. And Banshee too."

No one had any objections to either name. "Anyone else?" the Professor asked.

"I was thinking perhaps Nightcrawler," Cyclops said. "I think he would be great at this. But my gut tells me he will be wanting to come with us on missions to earth rather than reside here for any extended length of time. We can certainly ask him though."

"I think we have a good list here," the Professor said. "Is there anyone else we might have overlooked? For either role?"

"There is one I think we should keep our eye on….for the future perhaps," Storm began. "Northstar. We do not know him well, but I have been impressed with what I have seen so far in terms of his abilities on a mission. I think someday he could be a strong field commander."

"I don't know," Cyclops said. He then paused and said, "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm questioning all of your suggestions today, Storm. But Northstar? We don't know him well enough, and Wolverine said he was arrogant and brash."

"Wolverine and Northstar served together in Alpha Flight more than a decade ago. Wolverine has had nothing but praise for Northstar recently, and I haven't seen Northstar act brash at all. Perhaps a little arrogant, but did we not agree that no one was perfect?" She paused, "All I am suggesting is that we keep an eye on him."

The Professor said, "That seems fair enough. I agree that we need to observe more of his working style. So I will not say anything to him now but we can consider him later." He then thanked Storm and Cyclops for the meeting and their ideas. He said he would speak with the other candidates, and continue to consider Psylocke's plan.

Chapter 2

Chapter 4 


	4. Chapter 4

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 4

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 4

Sunlight streamed through the window of Rogue and Gambit's quarters. The couple had picked a lovely room. The insides of most of the quarters were fairly identical, but if you looked out the main window of Rogue and Gambit's room, you could see the beaches of An'zhina in the distance.

The sunlight attracted the attention of Gambit. He had been sleeping peacefully, wrapped in the arms of his fiancee. The light helped to wake him. Although no one kept real strict track of time on An'zhina, a yawning Gambit blinked and guessed that the lunch hour would soon be taking place. No matter. They were on vacation.

Rogue felt him stir and began to wake. Gambit reached for one of her hands and kissed it a few times. Rogue wore her inhibitor collar at all times when the two of them were alone together, which allowed them the pleasure of skin to skin contact. Gambit had been sleeping nude, as he did every night, and his skin touched Rogue, who was clad in an oversized shirt of Gambit's. Gambit nuzzled up against her and kissed the back of her neck, delighting in her fragrance.

"Mmmmmm….chere, your skin so soft," Gambit murmured. He placed a wet kiss on her earlobe and then buried his face in the back of her neck and her hair. His hands traveled a bit further downwards. "What you say we start our day off right, chere?" he asked. His hands were cupping her round bottom and his cock was rock hard already.

"I could be persuaded, Sugar," Rogue said. She wasn't sure she wanted to wake up yet but Gambit always had a way of enticing her. Besides, this would be a beautiful distraction from the odious task that faced Rogue later in the day.

Slowly and sensuously, Gambit caressed her into readiness. Rogue allowed him to take the lead, as she generally preferred that he did, and she simply remained laying on her side and enjoying his work.

"You ready, chere?" he asked, as her hips bucked against his fingers, which were wet with her arousal.

"Yes."

And then the disruptive part. Gambit reached for the nightstand and unwrapped a condom. As he unrolled it on himself, he silently reminded himself to ask Hank someday the likelihood of him coming up with a better contraceptive. `Maybe now dat Hank himself got a personal interest in dis topic, dis be the right time,' Gambit chuckled to himself. He was still incredulous that he had lost the bet.

Gambit then easily slid in and thrust away. He reached a hand around and stroked Rogue's clit simultaneously, knowing she liked this the best. Penetration didn't always do it for Rogue but fortunately Gambit had every trick up his sleeve. Rogue pushed back in time with his movements as his fingers kept rubbing her throbbing bud. All too quickly, they climaxed together.

"Race ya to the showers!" Rogue exclaimed, suddenly leaping out of bed. Gambit, startled by her change in mood, scrambled after her. The couple laughed in the shower as they squirted water and liquid soap at each other and playfully smacked each other with the washcloths. They teased each other: "You look like a drowned rat!" "Yeah well you look like a drowned Swamp Rat!" She grabbed his toned rear and squeezed it. Rogue and Gambit made love again, this time frenetically and awkwardly as the water continued to deluge them.

"Alright, play time is over," Rogue said, once the mood had settled down and she and Gambit were out of the shower and getting dressed. She removed her collar and set it at its place on the nightstand.

"What you doing today, chere?" Gambit asked, toweling himself dry and then slipping on a pair of briefs. She had seemed overly serious the evening before and he could tell that something was on her mind, though it wasn't something she was bursting to talk about.

"Aw, some strange idea of Storm's and Jubilee. I guess I shouldn't say 'strange.' I dunno. It's kinda sad, really. Turns out Jubes is feeling kinda down lately. So we got the idea to have another healing ceremony, on board the ship this time."

"Really? Gambit didn't know dat Jubilee's feelin' sad."

"Yeah. She don't seem to show it too much. So we're gonna do this thing and an hope it makes her feel better." For reasons she couldn't explain to herself, Rogue didn't want to tell Remy exactly what they were planning. In fact, she hardly wanted to talk about it at all.

"You feelin' ok, chere?" Gambit asked, stepping closer behind her and gently placing his hands on her shoulder.

She shrugged him off. "I'm fine, sugar."

"Any of the other women in on your ceremony?"

"No, it's just gonna be the four of us. Storm and Jean are still doing ceremonies for anyone who wants it." She paused, and then added as an afterthought, "Too bad Psylocke doesn't attend any. I bet she could use it."

"Gambit t'ink so too. Pity 'bout her an Angel breaking up."

"Oh!" Rogue added, remembering that she saw something that she'd wanted to share with him, "Did you see her and Chen Jiang at the beach yesterday?" Chen Jiang was one of the mutants rescued from the camp in Beijing.

"No."

"They were flirtin' and touchin' each other in the way that only lovers do. They were all over each other like flies on honey."

"Unbelievable. She an' Warren haven't been broken up that long."

"Well, it was real obvious that she's moved on." Rogue sighed. "Poor Warren." It had been many years since Rogue had touched Warren and absorbed his memories back when they were battling Apocalypse. As with many who she absorbed, Rogue retained a certain fondness for Warren.

"Yeah. But poor Betsy too. She's not been herself ever since we got her out of dat camp. Dey messed her up so bad. Warren tried hard to help her `dough."

Rogue nodded. "Well, sugar, I guess it's time we got movin' and I take my medicine. Jubilee, Storm, Jean, and I agreed we'll meet after lunch for our ceremony, and by my reckoning lunch is half over."

Gambit detected, quite accurately, that Rogue didn't want to discuss this topic anymore.

Rogue would attend the healing ceremony out of respect for Jubilee and the others, though if she had her way, they'd be done with these things. Couldn't the whole vile incident just be forgotten? Rogue slogged through lunch, not getting any enjoyment out of the food. After Rogue finished an ice cream bar, Storm approached. "Are you ready?"

Rogue nodded and followed her leader. They met up with Jean and Jubilee in An'zhina's transporter room, and the four beamed themselves up to Freedom, which was in constant orbit around the moon.

They all exchanged glances with each other when they reached the ship. The vessel was empty. No one was surprised by that but none could remember ever seeing Freedom deserted like this. An'zhina contained everything anyone needed and there was truly no reason for anyone to spend time aboard the ship----especially since everyone going on the next rescue mission would be confined to it for a while. "It feels weird to see the ship so empty," Jubilee murmured as they stepped down from the transporter pad and entered the hallway.

"It's peaceful," Storm said, trying to get the others to view the situation in a different light.

"It's been a while since I've been on board," Jean noted. "It does seem strangely quiet."

Rogue remained silent. This was going to be harder than she had thought. An irrational bolt of fear was worming its way inside her. Did they have to revisit this? The worst few days of her life. Rogue was taken back to the inexpressible terror and outrage. And humiliation. She touched a finger to one of the sockets of a missing tooth. FOH had used pliers to remove two of her teeth for her refusal to cooperate. Absentmindedly, she tapped the gum where one of her missing teeth would have been. It no longer ached.

Rogue was not the only one mentally fighting back fear. Jubilee shivered. This was going to be harder than she had thought. Jubilee reached for one of Storm's hands and held it, not caring if the gesture appeared childish to anyone. The warmth of the one-time Goddess's hand provided a small measure of comfort. But then Jubilee remembered back to when Storm had tried to comfort her after the examination by the FOH, and how one of the guards had then struck Storm.

"The supply room is just around this corner," Storm said, though everyone knew the lay-out of the ship. They would retrieve their cleaning supplies from there, and then proceed to the room.

The door to the immense supply room slid open. Each woman grabbed up such materials as rags, buckets, mops, sponges and cleaning solution. Rogue tried to think of a lighthearted quip but nothing came to mind. All four women were quiet as they gathered their supplies and exited.

The room was up a level and down a hall. Jean mused that if an outsider had been looking in, they made a strange procession indeed, carrying their supplies and wordlessly riding in the turbo lift. At last they reached the hallway. They started towards the room.

Jean sensed the tension in all of the others, as well as her own fear. But she also sensed it was the right thing to do. `Charles always said that you must deal with the thing that you dread, do the thing that you think you cannot do,' Jean reminded herself. Still, she was unnerved by the amount of tension she felt coming off of Storm. Rarely did she detect turbulent emotions from the Wind Rider.

The four reached the room and stopped dead in their tracks. Storm deliberately took a deep breath, and the others instinctively followed her lead. She then reminded herself that, as their leader, she needed to overcome her fears. Some words came to her, and she faced the others and spoke. "We are about to enter the room and face our fears. This is the room where we were all horribly tortured and we suffered in ways that no human being should ever be forced to. But we are brave. We have helped each other to heal through the strength which the Goddess placed inside each of us. The power of our caring for each other---as well as the power and help of all the rest of our family, the men who care about us----will continue to heal us."

With those words, Storm pressed the button to open the door. Rogue held her breath as it slid aside. Storm took a few steps forward and the others followed her in.

Rogue looked around the room, her stomach churning. The room had been cleaned by the ship's automatically cleaning process, but it basically had been left untouched. The room was the size of a small gymnasium. Four beds were in the room, each in a row, though with distance in between them. Each bed had a basket next to it which held stacks of condoms. The platform from which Rogue and Jubilee had been auctioned off was still there. One side of the room had a shower-like area with a hose and grating on the floor for the water to drain.

Rogue turned her head when she heard a noise behind her. Jubilee was softly crying, and Storm was putting an arm around her.

Jean got down to business right away. They were here to clean and that was what she was going to do. It was uncomfortable for her to bend or stoop, so she decided to start by mopping the floor near "her" bed. A mop with an ergonomically designed handle made this a not-uncomfortable task for Jean. Rogue noticed that Jubilee continued to cry for quite some time, and Storm remained with her. After a while though, Jubilee had composed herself. She and Storm mutely got to the work of cleaning.

Rogue sighed and decided to get to it herself. She detested cleaning, always had. She decided to start by working on the platform. She knelt down on the platform, dumped a generous amount of lemon-smelling cleaning fluid onto the cloth, and started wiping down the platform's floor. `This is still so ridiculous,' Rogue said to herself. `Why are we doing this again? I always hated cleaning. My Daddy used to always yell at me to clean and….' A little something snapped when she came to that thought. She cried out and touched her temples. Something inside Rogue halted her memories instantly and she started to feel physically ill.

Storm turned towards Rogue upon hearing her cry out. A look at her friend revealed a look of bewilderment on Rogue's face. Rogue's expression then turned to dismay….and then to rage. Storm blinked. She had seen such fury on Rogue's face before, but not any time recently.

Rogue then bellowed out a war cry. "To hell with cleaning this place!" she yelled. Rogue grabbed the floorboards of the stage and wrenched them up as if they were made of newspaper. Her incredibly powerful hands ripped out all the material that comprised the platform. In a matter of seconds, the platform was destroyed, pieces of it laying in a heap on the floor.

Storm, Jubilee and Jean looked at her in amazement. Rogue grinned back at them. "Damn this feels good!" she told them. Jubilee looked at Rogue's grin and got inspired.

In a matter of seconds, the women changed from cleaning the room to tearing it down. Following Rogue's lead, Jubilee let forth her fireworks. She totaled the bed she had been on and the shower area of the room. "Yell while you do it!" Rogue advised her. Jubilee let out an ear-piercing scream as she continued to lay waste to the room.

Storm took a deep breath. Although she needed to remain controlled at all times because of her awesome powers, she deduced that she could let her guard down for a bit. `This will be cathartic,' she told herself. The Wind Rider then let out several thunderbolts which easily demolished the bed she had been raped on.

Then it was chaos. Rogue and Jubilee continued to scream and trash the room. Storm wasn't as vocal but she was gleefully taking part in the destruction.

At first, Jean backed herself into a corner and hastily created a bubble to surround herself in. She was now nearly seven months pregnant and her baby's safety was foremost in her mind. The bubble protected her from the turmoil. "Be careful!" she called out, noting that Rogue now seemed intent on punching holes in the ceiling. Chunks of the material crashed down. Jean continued to watch. She reminded herself why they were there; what caused this. She replayed in her mind many of the countless stories she had heard from camp survivors. Using her telekinesis, Jean picked up the bed she had been raped on and smashed it against a wall.

Within minutes, the room was in ruins. Parts of the floor were broken, massive holes were in the walls, one entire wall had been taken down, and the ceiling was partially caved in. Storm, Rogue and Jubilee then all wound up sitting in the middle of the floor. Jean walked over towards them, sensing their exhilaration, seeing that the dam had broken. She was too tired to join them in sitting though; getting up and down was difficult in her body. Storm visually scanned the room, surveying the damage. She chuckled to herself. Letting go like this was not something the very controlled woman usually did, but it felt so good.

"I think I might let loose more often," Storm mused, an uncharacteristic grin on her face.

"Now all we need is to go out and get drunk," Rogue said, sneaking a glance at Storm. Storm gave her an admonishing look. Rogue turned to Jubilee, "Ooops, sorry----guess I'm not providing a good role model for you."

"Hey, if we were back on earth, I'd be old enough to drink now!" Jubilee said.

"You know, she's right!" Rogue said, looking at Storm. "We never celebrated this girl's 21st birthday." The X-men had tacitly agreed to just let birthdays go---being that they had lived in space for the past two years, it was too difficult to translate their time to earth time. They were also too busy and they had no means of purchasing gifts.

Storm smiled, still somewhat amazed at the destruction the three had caused. She knew she'd have to explain this to Xavier at some point, but she also felt he would be understanding. "Jubilee, how do you feel now?"

"I feel great!" Jubilee enthused.

"I do too," Rogue said. "Now if only it had been actual FOH soldiers and not just this room that we totaled."

We had been on An'zhina for nearly two weeks. Finally we received word that Queen Marina was no longer occupied with her meetings and wanted to meet with our leadership, as she usually did when they returned to the moon. (The meeting, as usual, would be conducted via videoconferencing as Endarians still preferred as little face to face contact with us as possible.) The day Marina was free, she scheduled to hook up with the Professor, Cyclops and Storm after lunchtime.

I knew this because Northstar relentlessly asked Storm about the topic during lunch. She basically gave him all the information he asked for. As Storm finished her lunch and stood up to head towards the videoconferencing room, Jean-Paul followed her. I followed him.

The videoconferencing room looked basically like any of our meeting rooms—lots of beautiful wood paneling, high ceilings, and at least one wall with floor to ceiling glass windows. The video screen occupied the center of the room. When Jean-Paul and I arrived, the Professor was punching a few buttons on the controls of the screen. Storm was sitting at one of the tables.

Jean-Paul turned towards the Professor. He then asked, "Do you mind if I…..or **we**," he said, taking a glance at me, "sit in? I have never met Queen Marina and I would like to."

"Of course," the Professor said. "Be my guest." So Jean-Paul and I sat next to Storm. Cyclops entered the room a minute later, gave a look at Jean-Paul and I, and sat down.

The control panel beeped a few times and before I knew it, the image of Queen Marina flickered on the screen before us. She smiled and began, "It is good to see you." She looked the same as she always had, serene and really quite beautiful.

"It is good to see you as well," the Professor said. "I want to thank you in person for lending us one of your starships. The Valiant helped ensure us a successful rescue mission. Bobby, Wolverine and Gambit are all safe and sound and we have you to thank for it."

I wasn't sure if it was appropriate or not to say anything, but Marina was always kind and I thought a sincere thank you couldn't hurt. So I thanked her, and she smiled and tilted her head in my direction. She then acknowledged Storm and Cyclops. When she was greeting Scott, she added, "It is very good to see that you have returned safe and sound from the rescue mission."

He smiled and thanked her again for lending us the Valiant. Marina's gaze then shifted to Jean-Paul.

"Northstar," Marina said. "How good to see you as well."

"You know of me?" Jean-Paul asked innocently. He might have asked the question but I'm sure he wasn't surprised that she knew of him at all.

"Of course," Marina said. "We learned of the adventures of Alpha Flight as well as the X-men. Welcome to An'zhina, Northstar."

"I am delighted to be here, great Queen. I thank you for everything you have done to help mutants. You are a most generous ruler to be using your resources to assist a deposed group of people as ourselves." His voice was at its most charming, and he is a man who can be very suave when he wants to be. I was worried he was laying it on a bit thick. I sure didn't know the Queen well but she was certainly not naïve and likely had seen something like this before. I also started to worry because I knew darn well why Jean-Paul had invited himself to the meeting and it wasn't just to meet Marina.

For the next several minutes, Marina and the leaders of the X-men spoke about business. As always, she was focussed and down to business during the conversation; she wasted little time with any "small" talk. They discussed the Valiant (it was in acceptable---almost excellent---condition), the number of new mutants who would be settling on An'zhina, and a few minor things about the facilities.

When the discussion appeared to be drawing to an end, Jean-Paul spoke. "May I say something, Queen Marina?" he asked. The Professor, Storm and Cyclops all turned their heads towards him. Marina nodded and Jean-Paul continued. "When I was held prisoner by the Friends of Humanity, they tortured my teammates and myself in several ways. They cut one of my arms off, as you can see. I know that you have the medical technology to get me a replacement arm. Can you help?" He had eagerness and wanting written all over his face, and he literally was sitting on the edge of his seat.

Cyclops's mouth was slightly open and I didn't need to be able to see his eyes to gage his reaction. He quickly turned from Jean-Paul to Marina and said, "Marina, please forgive us for Northstar's forwardness. He should not have made that request. We know, as we have discussed before, that we can only expect from the Endarians certain---"

Marina cut Scott off. "Cyclops, it is alright. I do not mind this request." She turned towards Jean-Paul. "Northstar, I am glad to help you. We certainly do have the necessary technology. Endarians rarely lose limbs, but if they do, replacing them is a simple procedure. We can surgically add a mechanical substitute arm which will look and feel just like a natural arm. The procedure is painless and will take under an hour."

Jean-Paul's eyes were wide, his mouth open. "Really? Oh, Marina I cannot thank you enough!"

"Are you ready now?" she asked him.

Jean-Paul looked stunned and elated. "Right now?" He didn't even pause. "Yes!"

And from that moment on, it was a whirlwind. She asked if he would like anyone to go with him. Jean-Paul looked at me and I nodded. We were beamed somewhere right then and there. Last thing I saw before we were wisked away were some very disapproving looks from the Professor, Cyclops and Storm. I knew it was Jean-Paul who had made the request but I also knew we both would certainly have to face this later. (And I hoped we would be able to face it in the form of a discussion with Storm or even the Professor, rather than get yelled at by Cyclops. I have seen him yell at other X-men when they did something that was out of order. I hadn't seen it much in the last two years—usually it was during my first stint with the X-men----but for someone who prided himself on being controlled, he sure could get angry and end up yelling.)

So off we went. In the Endarian medical facility (which, I believe, was on an orbiting space station), I was in the room as Jean-Paul was put under. I basically had to look away during the procedure since I get nauseated around blood and hospitals and stuff. Endarian hospitals were nothing like the ones on earth but still. I wasn't allowed to leave the room though; I knew the reason had to do with the Endarians' wish to avoid contact with us.

Fortunately, it was a large room and someone handed me a magazine on gardening. I should have read it more in depth and paid better attention to it rather than looking at pictures of pretty gardens and vegetables, but my head was still spinning from everything and I couldn't really concentrate. I knew Hank would be disappointed that I didn't pay better attention during the surgery but I didn't even want to peek. I just paged through the magazine, listened to the really cool music that was playing in the room, thought positive thoughts about Jean-Paul, and daydreamed.

Although I knew the Professor, Cyke and Storm were going to be pissed, I was glad for Jean-Paul. He **really** wanted his arm back. He was so self-conscious about it. When we went swimming, he left a T-shirt on---something Jeanne-Marie told me he never used to do. Anytime his lack of a second arm hampered him from doing something, he expressed anger about it. I thought he'd be much happier this way and that would easily outweigh---for both of us---whatever chewing out we were going to get from Cyclops and the others.

I'd estimate it took about forty-five minutes. Before I knew it, he was sitting up on the bed, blinking and rubbing his new arm. He kept starting at it, poking it with the other hand, touching it in different places. He was handed a mirror and sat there studying both of his arms. They looked virtually identical; the new one fit right in with the old one. I didn't even see a scar or anything along the area of his upper arm where the stump had been. He asked me to touch the arm in various places---the biceps area, the elbow, the forearm, the hand, the fingers. "Mon dieu! It feels so real!" he said in amazement. "Every touch feels real. It doesn't feel mechanical at all!" On inspiration, I reached for his new hand and kissed it. He smiled and brought my own hand to his lips.

Well, that was it. The doctors gave him some information---they basically told him he shouldn't feel any discomfort or pain, he could treat the new arm just like any other body part of his. Before we knew it, we were transported back to An'zhina.

It struck me that I had never seen Northstar shirtless before. Of course I hadn't because he even went swimming with a shirt on. But as soon as we got back, he went everywhere without a shirt, showing off his new arm to almost all of An'zhina's 200 inhabitants. Everyone went up to him and touched it as we talked about how quick and easy the surgery was. Mostly, I stood there looking. And looking and looking and looking. Jean-Paul shirtless was an impressive sight. His chest was broad and he was **built.** Everything was muscular---his pecs, his shoulders, his arms. His abs were perfect. And yeah, he wasn't the only man on An'zhina who was buff---but he was **my** man and that made it all the more exciting. I practically started drooling. Oh, not only was he so well put together, but he also had a smooth chest. As I looked more closely, though, I realized he did have hair around his upper chest but it was white and wispy like much of the hair on his head. I wanted so badly to able to touch everything that was on display. After a while, I wasn't listening to any of the "ooh"-ing and "ahh"-ing that was being done over his new arm. I was too busy trying to calm myself down and get rid of my erection.

When Hank and Panda found us, they asked about the surgery and didn't seem too thrilled when neither of us could remember anything at all. "I was unconscious!" Jean-Paul laughed. Hank and Panda turned towards me. "I was reading a magazine," I said, shrugging. "And I didn't want to risk seeing any blood or stuff."

I really was thrilled for Jean-Paul. He was practically glowing with confidence, a level of confidence I hadn't seen before. I think maybe he'd been faking it up to that point.

All I remember about the rest of that day is the long hug Jean-Paul and I shared before bedtime. (As always, we embraced outside of one of our rooms. We never entered the room together-----if we were to start making out in private, we weren't going to stop with kissing. ) His chest felt hot against my shirt. My fingertips were touching his bare shoulders and back. We kissed. And as frequently happened, I tried to go back for seconds but he stepped backwards and shook his head. I did manage to coax him into a second hug but it was horrible when he ended the hug. It felt like diving into freezing cold water when you've been warm and content. I suppose I don't need to say that I went to bed very unsatisfied.

"I can't believe the nerve of that arrogant little snit," Cyclops was saying to Jean later that day. They were supervising Charlotte and Aurora's playtime in a room which had been designated a play area for children. The two little girls were making a ton of noise using a variety of different toys, some created by Wolverine and others donated by Endarians.

"It certainly was wrong of him to make such a request without clearing it with someone beforehand," Jean agreed. "So which one of you is going to have a little talk with him?"

"The Professor said he would. Which is lucky for Northstar----he wouldn't want me to be the one."

"I'm surprised Marina agreed to Northstar's request. In the past, she's been so insistent on limiting our contact with any Endarians. But this-----" Jean broke off and placed a hand on her abdomen. "He's kicking!" she said. "Feel it!"

Scott eagerly rushed to place his hand on Jean and feel the baby's kicks. `What a profound experience,' he mused, 'for her to be carrying our child inside of her.' He closed his eyes and used their psy-link to sense what she sensed. Thoughts of Northstar's impropriety were soon gone from his mind.

Storm was eating her breakfast when she got the message from the Professor that Queen Marina wanted to meet with the three leaders of the X-men again. 'That's a bit odd,' Storm thought to herself. It was only the day after their previous meeting, and all of the business they had discussed yesterday had been resolved. Marina was an extremely busy woman and would not schedule a frivolous meeting. The Professor went on to inform Storm that the Queen was busy until mid-day and they would meet with her a few hours after lunch.

Storm finished her breakfast. As she had no other commitments that morning, she flew off for the hills to spend time in meditation.

When she was finished and descending the hills, she spotted three figures off in the distance. She had a hunch that they were Wolverine, Jubilee and Rory and as she flew closer, she found that she was right. Apparently, they were finishing up a karate lesson as Jubilee's daughter napped nearby.

"Hi, Storm," Jubilee greeted. Wolverine allowed himself a smile upon seeing Storm.

"How are the lessons going?" Storm asked.

"She's doing great," Wolverine said. "Pretty soon she'll be able to kick my ass in combat." Wolverine had been keeping a close eye on Jubilee since he'd been rescued from the Cetians. Storm had shared with him that Jubilee had been struggling a bit, emotionally. Wolverine made sure he spent some time with Jubilee and her daughter every day. He knew he had trouble saying it in so many words but he hoped his actions would show that he cared about her.

Jubilee smiled. "I doubt that. But look how strong I am!" Jubilee deftly demonstrated an impressive move.

The three chatted for a while but after not long, Wolverine took his leave of them. Storm, Jubilee and Aurora then decided to go for a walk.

"So tell me how you are feeling," Storm began. "You seem to be doing better since our…unusual ceremony on board the ship." After the women had finished destroying the room, Storm had informed the Professor of what happened. He asked only that they repair the holes in the ceiling and walls, which Storm, Jubilee and Rogue had happily did the next day.

Jubilee smiled. Just thinking back to it lifted her spirits. "I feel good." She shrugged, "Like we talked about before, I don't think I'll ever forget it or ever just like `get over it.' But I'm feeling okay."

"You shared with me that you were going to ask the Professor to erase your memory if this last ceremony didn't make you feel better. Have you thought more about….?"

"I don't think I will ever ask him to do that," Jubilee said, shaking her head. "I keep thinking back to what you told me. Living through this and working through it makes me a stronger person. I'm not going to just get it erased out of my memory."

Storm nodded and smiled, knowing that Jubilee was indeed a strong woman.

Later that day, Storm found herself sitting in between the Professor and Cyclops in the videoconferencing room. Queen Marina's image appeared on the screen before them, and the usual greetings were quickly exchanged.

Marina then added, "I trust Northstar is doing well?"

"Yes," the Professor replied. That morning, the Professor had had a discussion with Northstar. Charles was irritated at the Canadian's lack of remorse for his inappropriate action. Northstar had still been clearly elated to have a second arm again, and although he had apologized to the Professor, the apology had not been the most sincere Charles had ever heard. He had no wish to "punish" Northstar but he did want the man to realize that his action was wrong. However, even without his telepathic powers, the Professor knew that Jean-Paul was a long way from coming to that realization.

The Professor was preparing to apologize for Northstar's request when Marina spoke again. "There is something I wish to discuss with you." She paused. "My Executive Council has been upset at the special favors I have been granting you. They have no objection to your living on An'zhina, but lately you have made some requests of us----the use of the Valiant being the largest one, for instance. Northstar's arm is another example."

"I thought that the Council itself approved our use of the Valiant," Cyclops said.

"They did. But I had to pull quite a few favors to get them to agree. I have been paying for that decision for several weeks now, as I probably will have to for restoring Northstar's arm." She paused and then said the last sentence slowly, emphasizing the words, "I would like to ask for a favor from you now."

The Professor, Cyclops and Storm were silent, awaiting Marina's request. She had never asked them for anything prior to this. Storm found herself holding her breath.

Marina turned towards Cyclops. "Cyclops, I would like you to spend an evening with me."

Scott's mouth fell open. In the flash of an instant, part of him knew what she meant even as he found himself struggling with disbelief. Storm turned towards Cyclops, absolutely shocked at Marina's request. "I-I beg your pardon?" Scott asked, keeping his tone questioning rather than angry.

Marina smiled. "I know that you do not have the same attitudes towards sexuality that we Endarians do, so perhaps this is awkward for you. But I have been watching and admiring you for a long time, Cyclops. I like you the best of the men on An'zhina. When I say that I would like you to spend an evening with me, I mean that I would like to have dinner with you, for us to attend an event together---we have wonderful plays, symphonies and such here----and for us to then return to my palace and make love." She said the words casually, as if she were requesting that he tell her what time it was.

Scott fought hard to contain his outrage. He reminded himself that he was speaking with a powerful regent, one who could make the X-men's lives a misery if she wanted. "Queen Marina…." he began, "I'm a married man. I have a wife and a daughter….and another baby on the way. What you're asking for is….is totally inappropriate!" His last sentence betrayed his affronted state.

"I have no desire for you to leave Jean or your child," Marina replied simply. "All I am asking for is one evening with you."

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Queen Marina but the answer has to be `no.' There's no way. Perhaps your people do not practice monogamy but I made a vow to be faithful to Jean and nothing in the world could ever make me break it."

Scott was too angry to notice the subtleties in Marina's expression, but Storm easily picked up on them. Marina's eyes narrowed. "I see," Marina said. "This is very disappointing."

Scott looked at both the Professor and then at Storm. Both of them mirrored his surprise and outrage. "So what do we do now, Marina?" Scott asked. "Are you going to ask us to leave An'zhina?"

She hesitated before replying. "No. No I wouldn't do that. But I remain very disappointed. Do not ever ask me for any favors again!" With that, Marina terminated their connection and the screen went blank.

The three X-men sat looking at each other. "I'm stunned," Storm said.

Cyclops shrugged, though his cheeks were flushed, reflecting both embarrassment and ire. "Wolverine once said no one gives you a moon without asking for something in return. I hate to say it, but maybe he was right." He shook his head and mused aloud. "If she really knew anything about me at all, she would have known there's no way I'd go along with what she was asking. So why did she even make the request?"

"Marina has never asked us for anything before," the Professor said. "I do not know what might have happened to make her change her mind. I took a reading of her emotional state and it is basically the same as normal for her, though she is somewhat more tired than usual."

"Did you catch the hesitation in her voice before she replied to Scott's question?" Storm asked. "The question as to whether she would ask us to leave An'zhina."

Both Scott and Charles nodded. "I hope I didn't give her any ideas," Scott said.

"I'm sure you did not," the Professor said. "Besides, Marina has enough power that she could force us to leave any time she wanted. She might come back and make another ridiculous request someday."

"Perhaps it was naïve of me," Storm began, reflectively, "but I always thought of An'zhina as a safe and secure haven. Right now I am realizing that perhaps that was a falsity."

Scott nodded, still shocked at Marina's request. He would never go along with it. He had never made love with any woman other than Jean and he had no desire for anyone else. "Excuse me," he said, getting up to leave the room. As he reached the door, he turned and added, "I trust that neither of you will mention this to anyone else."

Storm and Charles assured him they would not. Scott left the room. Storm looked at the Professor and shook her head. "Amazing….I never saw that coming. What an outrageous request."

Jubilee sat in the rec room one evening, paging through a book which was failing to hold her interest. The rec room was one of the busiest areas on An'zhina and at any given time, a few dozen people congregated in it, eating, conversing, playing games such as ping pong or any assortment of board games, and listening to music. One of the rescued mutants, a young man named Russ, had worked as a deejay before and often enjoyed spinning tunes in the rec room. Jubilee sat back in her seat that evening and watched Rogue and Gambit together on the dance floor, as they moved to a slower song that Russ had cued up. The couple's bodies were practically melded together and Jubilee wondered at how they kept from stepping on each other's toes. From where she sat, she couldn't see their faces well but she didn't need to. She had seen Remy give Rogue that look of utter adoration numerous times before and she'd heard Rogue talk about how it made her feel. Jubilee was filled up with longing.

Jubilee wondered for a moment whether she should call Colossus to check up on Aurora, but she knew that the burly Russian and his girlfriend Elena would not have volunteered to babysit unless they really wanted to and that they would reach her via their communicators should anything come up.

A mutant named Yunfei entered the rec room. Upon seeing him, Jubilee got up to leave. Yunfei had been one of the ones rescued from the Mutant Containment Center in Beijing. Jubilee found the man attractive and had mustered her nerve to initiate conversations with him more than once. Yunfei never gave her the time of day; it was evident that he was not the least bit interested in getting to know her. Seeing him that day made her feel uncomfortable.

Jubilee then decided to go for a walk, wanting to enjoy the peace and quiet of the outdoors while she had a few hours away from her baby. On her way out, she passed Hank and Panda cuddled up on the porch together, Panda partly in Beast's lap. The inseparable pair was talking quietly. Hank was said to be spending far less time in the lab and far more time in his room with Panda. The pair no longer had separate rooms; they had "moved in" together. Anytime Jubilee looked at Panda, she saw unbridled glee on the woman's furry face.

Quick as a wink, Northstar and Bobby bounded onto the porch, holding hands. The giggling couple seemed oblivious to anyone else as Northstar asked, "Ready, mon ami?" He then scooped Bobby up in his two arms and, with a whooosh, they flew off somewhere.

Jubilee walked through the backyard on the way to the forested area. Cyclops was pushing Charlotte on one of the baby swings, as Jean lay on a blanket nearby. Another happy couple.

Aside from Yunfei, Jubilee had tried to strike up a friendship (that is, a friendship that might lead to something else) with one of the other rescued mutants. But that man too was simply not interested in her and gave her no encouragement.

One of the men rescued from the FOH camp in England, a man named Brett, had pursued Jubilee. However, both Storm and Wolverine asked Jubilee to be cautious, indicating that they did not get a good vibe from Brett. Jubilee found Brett to be dull in personality and physically unattractive. Despite the fact that she felt no emotional or physical attraction to him and despite the warnings of Wolverine and Storm, Jubilee had responded to Brett's wooing of her. However, just a couple short days after he had started courting her, he dropped her like a hot potato. Psylocke, apparently, was interested in Brett and soon they were rumored to be sleeping together. Wolverine told Jubilee that he could sense that that was all Brett had wanted from Jubilee and it was much better this way. So on one level, Jubilee was glad things had never gotten off the ground with Brett. But seeing all these couples made Jubilee long even more fervently for the day when she would find someone of her own.

Our vacation on An'zhina was over far too soon. Before we knew it, the four weeks were up and it was time for us to start heading back to earth. Time for another five week trek across the galaxy to our home world where we would attempt to rescue as many mutants from FOH as possible. Hank finished work on the "Euphoria Vapor" (as he called it) just in the nick of time. This gas would create a euphoric state for whoever was doused with it, and Hank found a way it would seep through conventional gas masks. Our own gas masks were reinforced and would be impenetrable for the Euphoria Vapor. So we hoped that this weapon would successfully fend off the FOH and whichever traitor mutants were still working for them.

Those of us X-men who would be going on this rescue mission were: the Professor, Storm, Wolverine, Hank, Colossus, Gambit, Rogue, Angel, Psylocke, Jubilee, Nightcrawler, Marrow, Northstar, Shaman, and myself. Accompanying us on the journey would be Panda, Shaman's family, Jubilee's daughter, and a few assorted others (such as Elena----she's been trained as a medical assistant, along with steadfast Ramon, etc.) Out of the mutants we rescued from the camp in Beijing, only two wanted to return to earth so they were on board as well. None of the mutants we had rescued on our first mission had changed their minds; all were content to live on An'zhina.

Remaining on An'zhina would be Cyclops and Jean, Moira MacTaggert, Banshee and his daughter Siryn, and Jeanne-Marie and her son. Jeanne-Marie said that she had had enough of action and adventure for the time being and wanted to spend some time helping her son. As for Moira, she said that she understood how serious our need for another doctor was, but she had to respect Siryn's wishes. Siryn was so overjoyed that her father was alive, she was not about to let him out of her site. I sure couldn't blame the family for wanting some time together in peace.

So our burgeoning colony on An'zhina would have Cyclops, Jean, Moira and Banshee serving as its stewards. We talked about this at one of our long meetings and basically the whole group gave its blessing to the idea of those four being in charge on the moon.

As for us X-men who were heading back for the next battle on earth, Storm would of course serve as our field commander but as we also discussed at that meeting, three others would be trained as field commanders: Wolverine, Rogue and Beast. I agreed that it was a good idea we got to training new leaders. I asked Hank about it and he admitted he was not wild about combat—never had been---but also felt that the more leaders the X-men had, the better. He was spending a lot of time in training and I didn't get to hang out with him as often as I'd have liked.

The evening we were to depart, I said goodbye to An'zhina. Northstar flew me up to the highest hill and then flew me all around the moon. I was leaving my garden in the capable hands of four or five different people who'd been working on it all along and promised to tend to it. After we flew over the garden, Jean-Paul then took me over the brilliant white beaches and the woody forested areas. We paid homage to all of them. He then flew me back up to the top of the hill.

"I'm going to miss it here," I said, looking down on our colony. It was dark out but the main complex was brightly lit and stood out like a beacon. Jean-Paul held my hand and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him nod. There wasn't any need to say much more. We both knew that if all went well, we would be back on An'zhina in ten weeks' time. If things did not go well….. we knew what that could mean too.

He squeezed my hand. The warmth felt really comforting. "We will be back soon," he murmured, his voice sounding far away. I turned my head to look at him, concerned at the sadness I thought I detected. "I am really going to miss my sister," he explained. "We've never been apart for too long. I cannot recall being separated for more than a week."

An idea flashed across my mind. "We don't have to leave. I mean, if you want to stay here and be with her, be with your nephew….Jean and Scott----and Moira and Sean could use the help here, running An'zhina I'm sure. We could stay."

Jean-Paul shook his head. "We are needed on this rescue mission. You know that, Bobby."

"Yeah, I know. I just hate seeing you sad like this," I said, putting my arms around him. He embraced me quickly but then stepped away.

"It will be okay, mon ami. I'll be okay. Jeanne-Marie has the harder part than me. She will stay here and worry over me while I go on this mission, knowing she's safe."

I smiled and attempted some humor, "And you didn't mention the hardest part of all. She has to take care of Stephan."

He returned my smile. A few more moments went by and he stifled a yawn. It was approaching bedtime. "Shall we?" he asked, tilting his head in the direction of the building.

I nodded and was scooped up in Jean-Paul's strong arms. He carries me so well. One of his arms went under my thighs and the other against my back as I sat in his arms, with my arms around his shoulders. As he carried me, I felt two sensations at once----I felt secure but at the same time, I felt exhilarated with the wind rushing my face.

Once we reached the complex, we walked back to our room, hand in hand. We passed Rogue and Gambit in the corridors----we all smiled at each other and wished each other goodnight. Remy and Rogue looked so happy together. Jean-Paul and I then reached his room first. We turned and faced each other in the hall for our evening custom of saying goodnight to each other. I looked at his handsome face and my heart melted. I reached a hand around to ruffle his hair.

I think he saw the longing in my eyes but he only smiled patiently at it. Last time I'd asked him about it, he still wanted to wait, saying that he needed more time to honor Phillippe's memory. So I wasn't going to say anything that evening, despite how I felt.

"Pleasant dreams, amour," he murmured.

"You too," I said, as one of my hands then caressed his ear lobe. He then grabbed my shoulders and pulled me towards him. I expected something more passionate from the way he had reached for me, but he then lightly brushed my lips with his. Everything felt so good. He was so warm and so tender, his lips were soft, and my heart was throbbing at how much I felt for him. I didn't know if it was too early to call it love but I knew that I cared for him so deeply. He allowed a second kiss this time and he gently inserted his tongue in my mouth. I ran my fingers through his hair as we kissed. Each one of my nerve endings was on fire and I never wanted this kiss to end. I was excited but I also felt….content and mellow at the same time.

"Would you two knock that off?!"

We were interrupted by an angry voice. Feeling as if we'd been doused with cold water, Jean-Paul and I broke apart to find that we were no longer alone. Todd was standing in the hallway looking at us, an expression of hatred on his face. Todd was one of the mutants who had been rescued from the FOH camp in England.

"I beg your pardon?" Jean-Paul asked Todd, anger evident in his voice.

"I said that the two of you need to knock that off," Todd repeated, practically snarling at us through his clipped British accent. "Take that sick stuff and do that in your bedroom but you bloody well don't need to shove it in everyone's face in the hallway!"

As he spoke, I forced myself to take a deep breath. Part of me wanted to react with anger but I tried to come up with a reply that might do me proud by, say, Hank or Storm. "If you are offended, then don't look," I said simply. "I see plenty of straight couples holding hands and kissing in public all the time but I've never noticed you giving them a hard time for it." I managed to say it without yelling it or letting my exasperation get the best of me.

"Yeah, well, that's because they're not **perverts** like you two. There are children here and I don't want to see this disgusting crap anymore. You had better----"

Todd was cut off because Jean-Paul punched him in the face. Todd struck back. It all happened so quickly that I wasn't sure what to do, other than stand back. One of Jean-Paul's abilities allows him to move at hyper-speed, so Todd was really outmatched in this fight---especially considering that Jean-Paul had years of combat training behind him. Todd's mutation allowed him to turn invisible, but he had never had any sort of formal training and his power wasn't well under his control. During the few seconds that they were fighting, I think Todd tried to use his invisibility power but between Jean-Paul's speed and superior strength, Todd was toast.

"What is going on here?" an angry voice asked.

Jean-Paul and Todd stopped their fight when Cyclops approached them. Jean-Paul looked none the worse for wear, but during the seconds the scuffle had lasted, he had inflicted quite a bit of damage on Todd. The man was bleeding from the nose and mouth.

"What happened?" Cyclops repeated, standing in between them.

"He attacked me!" Todd said, pointing angrily at Jean-Paul.

"No, he attacked us!" Jean-Paul spit back. He was furious.

The accusations flew back and forth. I joined in and backed up Jean-Paul. Todd **did** attack us. It was a verbal attack, but an aggression nonetheless. Cyclops looked at the three of us, clearly pissed off. He finally said, "We're working on procedures to deal with conflicts like this. We can't have citizens of An'zhina beating each other up. We'll need to resolve this."

I had heard, during one of our endless meetings, the other X-men discuss and debate different conflict resolution strategies. Jean had come up with a sort of mediation thing where all the parties involved got together with an arbitrator to discuss what had happened.

"You mean we'll have to mediate this," I said flatly.

Cyclops said, "Yes. But you and Northstar are leaving tomorrow morning. We'll deal with this when you return from the mission and everyone's had some time to cool off."

"Too bad Todd is not joining us on the mission, eh?" Jean-Paul taunted. "We could use all the help we can get but I guess some people are not tough enough to take on FOH…..and prefer to just sit around and harass others."

"Why you little----" Todd made another move towards Jean-Paul, but Cyclops held him back.

"Come on, Jean-Paul," I said, quietly, putting a hand on Jean-Paul's chest to hold him back. "Enough of this guy. Forget him."

Cyclops escorted Todd down the hall towards his room and soon they were gone. Jean-Paul and I looked at each other.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, looking him over. I didn't see any visible wounds. His hyper-speed abilities sort of allow him to heal faster, though it's nothing like Wolverine's healing factor.

"No," he said. "Just angry as hell."

"Me too. That was a lot of nerve of him," I muttered.

Jean-Paul shook his head. "I'm sure he'll find a way to make it look like we were at fault. And I gotta wonder how fair this mediation is going to be."

"Let's not worry about it now. We got enough----"

Jean-Paul wasn't listening. "I'm going to go work out. I need to blow off some steam." He was already facing the direction of the gym.

He didn't invite me to join him and I didn't follow. I could tell from his voice and mannerisms that he wanted to be left alone. I was sad to see him go yet I understood too. It was better to let Jean-Paul go. Goddamn Todd for ruining the mood of our evening. Everything had been so wonderful. I tried to conjure up again the mood and the feelings that Jean-Paul and I had created and shared but it was gone.

I didn't sleep well that evening. The fight left me angry and upset. It was too early to worry about what would happen at the arbitration but I worried nonetheless. And I hoped that this next earth rescue mission would prove more successful than the last one.

Chapter 3

Chapter 5 


	5. Chapter 5

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 5 

Freedom 

By Stormkeeper 

Chapter 5

Scott Summers made his way back to his room. He had been trying to get there before Charlotte went to sleep but he was certain he'd missed it. After escorting Todd back to his quarters, Todd had vented at Scott for quite some time and it was now fairly late.

As the door to his room slid aside, Scott sensed that Charlotte was indeed sound asleep. His thought was confirmed when he saw the baby. Jean was dressed for bed and half-heartedly reading in bed. Her feet were propped up on several folded blankets. She brightened when Scott entered the room. He walked over to her at the side of the bed and they kissed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jean asked. No more words needed to be said. She sensed something had angered him-----though it wasn't the worst anger he'd ever felt, he was obviously not in a pleasant mood either.

Scott shrugged. "How are you feeling?"

"Everything's fine. He's finally taking a break from kicking now," she said, patting her abdomen. "But my ankles have never been so swollen in my life."

Scott fussed over her for a bit, fluffing her pillows and massaging her feet. Jean knew he liked to do that as a way of grounding himself and getting ready to talk about whatever it was that had put him in the bad mood. After he undressed and sat next to her, holding a book which he had no intention of reading that night, Scott opened up.

"I was walking down the hall to our room. I heard fighting and I came up on Northstar and Todd---you know Todd, the English guy in his early twenties with the blond hair? Needs to get a handle on how to control his power of invisibility." Jean nodded and Scott continued. "They were in a fist fight though Northstar was really beating up Todd pretty badly. Bobby was standing there doing nothing. So I get there and break it up. I asked them what happened. Todd claimed that Northstar attacked him. Northstar and Bobby denied it and said that Todd attacked them."

"This sounds pretty serious," Jean said, remembering the Professor's words during one of their many conversations this past month. If An'zhina was to indeed become a permanent refuge, the goal would be for the X-men to recreate the culture of the peaceful people they met back on the Paradise Planet. The natives were able to have a violence-free society and it was what the X-men hoped for An'zhina too. "Did you talk to them about arbitration?"

"Yes. But since Northstar and Iceman are leaving with the others tomorrow, I told them we'll have to deal with this when they returned."

Jean nodded and Scott continued speaking. "Afterwards, I walked Todd back to his room. He wanted to talk for a bit so I sat down with him and listened. He said he had been walking along and minding his own business. He said that Northstar and Bobby were ---quote---'making out' in the hall and getting very lewd. He said he asked them to please take it inside one of their rooms when Northstar lashed out at him and started beating him up." Scott paused and shook his head. "Todd doesn't have any experience with fighting and Northstar was in Alpha Flight for fifteen years. Northstar really beat him up----Northstar came out of it with barely a scratch but Todd was injured. I asked him if he wanted to go to the infirmary but he said he'd be alright. I helped him bandage up. Todd's nose was almost broken."

Jean listened and nodded. Scott continued, "What were they thinking? They shouldn't have been kissing in the hallway. And Northstar's reaction was wrong. He had to have known Todd didn't stand a chance in their fight. He should be disciplined for what he did."

Jean sensed how angry Scott was over the incident. She said, "It seems that perhaps Northstar overreacted. But remember, Scott, what you heard was Todd's version of the story. I'm sure Northstar has a different version of what happened---maybe he attacked only in self-defense. We don't know yet which one is closer to the truth."

Scott looked at her. "The attack on Todd went beyond self-defense. If Northstar was defending himself, it was excessive. I don't see that Todd could have inflicted much damage on him at all anyway. Northstar is a big guy and he's been trained for combat for years. Todd's a fairly average-sized man and one with not much fighting experience."

"It may be true that Northstar was excessive. But we must reserve our judgement until the mediation." She paused and reflected. "Of course, with my powers, I will be able to sense what really happened."

"That's good." Scott sighed and put his book down. "I will try to keep an open mind and be fair when it comes to this mediation. But that Northstar…..first his out-of-line request of Queen Marina and now this. I can't see why on earth Storm sees him as having potential leadership abilities. We've had more trouble from him than almost anyone else lately!"

Jean reached over and put a hand on Scott's shoulder. He'd had a lot on his mind lately. Queen Marina's request still upset him. He had been flustered by the nature of her request, but his concern went deeper than that too. The power balance and the X-men's standing in Endarian space was possibly compromised. Scott and Jean were both aware that perhaps mutantkind was not as secure on An'zhina as they had once thought.

The bright Endarian sun shone as the X-men prepared to board Freedom for their return trip to earth. Moira MacTaggert joined most of the other citizens of An'zhina to say goodbye to their departing comrades. She squinted as she placed a hand above her eyes. The sun was brighter than usual.

"I'll miss you, Charles," Sean Cassidy was saying. "I wish you and the others best of luck."

"Thank you, Banshee. I hope we'll be back soon," Charles Xavier replied.

Moira then turned to Charles and looked at him. Her heart skipped a beat. She didn't know which was more unnerving----the fact that seeing him still made her react this way involuntarily or the fact that he must **know** her reaction. Moira bit her lip and extended her hands. Charles held them briefly before letting them go.

"We must hae another celebration when you return," she said.

"Of course, Moira. I will miss you."

"And I, you. Best of luck to you."

Charles nodded and moved on. No hug. Moira watched him bid farewell to the next well-wishers and reflected for a moment on what could have been. She then silently chided herself for allowing her mind to take that route. Sean was alive and well----it had been a shock and a blessing when she learned that her husband was still alive and being held prisoner by the Cetians. She loved Banshee more than nearly anyone in her life and since their reunion, they had barely spent a moment apart.

But it was also true that during the months Moira had thought Sean dead, she had been getting closer to Charles. The two had slowly been edging towards opening a door and possibly stepping through it together. Now Sean was back and Charles was alone again. Gone was their morning ritual of eating breakfast together. Moira felt a stab of pain for the man she still cared deeply about.

Storm did a quick count. Everyone who should be aboard was indeed aboard with their belongings successfully beamed into their quarters. Sitting on the bridge with the Professor, Beast, and Wolverine, Storm performed one final diagnostic on Freedom. The engines, life support and all weaponry were on-line and working properly. Storm pressed a few buttons and turned on the cloaking device. To those watching from the moon, Freedom seemed to fade out and disappear in the space of a couple seconds.

"Ready?" Storm asked the other faces on the bridge. "Here we go."

Her fingers working the controls, Storm propelled the ship from the surface of An'zhina. The sturdy ship rose. She then engaged the impulse engines and steered the ship away from the many Endarian moons and passed the large planet itself. Freedom was then plunged into the mists that surrounded Endaria, the mists that served as a natural barrier for the tremendous civilization.

At this point, the Professor's powers always came in handy. The mists not only functioned as a fortress but they also nullified most of the ship's sensors. Charles touched his fingers to his temples and used his memories of Freedom's previous journeys to direct the ship out of the mists.

"We're almost there," the Professor said. "A few more seconds and we'll be out of the mists. Steady." He paused. Storm glanced at his face. His normally calm expression was replaced by confusion…and then a hint of fear.

"I'm sensing other minds!" the Professor said. "Many, many other minds."

"Be on alert, everyone!" Storm said, over the loud speakers.

"Where?" Wolverine asked.

"Nearby," the Professor said, unable to get any more specific. "Hundreds of minds….human minds."

Beast's fingers adroitly worked at his console. "We are coming out of the mists now and sensors are back on line." He gasped. "I'm picking up an FOH vessel!"

The other monitors confirmed what Beast saw. An uncloaked FOH starship was perched just outside of the mists of An'zhina.

"The FOH ship is moving….It is on a direct intercept course to us!" Storm said. "And it is firing up phasers and photon torpedos. I am putting our shields up and bringing all our weapons on line."

Wolverine smiled as he put his hands on his controls. "I'm on phasers and photons."

Beast looked at his console and pressed several buttons. "How do they know our position? Our cloaking device **is** functional. They should----"

He was cut off by the sound of a phaser blast. The FOH ship opened fire on the X-men. Their shields protected them.

The X-men were momentarily stunned by this attack but they reacted quickly. Storm maneuvered the ship in an evasive pattern but FOH handily tracked and kept up with Freedom. It was as if Freedom's cloaking device was non-existent.

Wolverine defended the ship. Although he preferred fighting with his hands and claws, this was also satisfying in a way. Years of practice at simulated battles made him a pro. He and Storm almost effortlessly coordinated their efforts-----she steering the ship and he firing away. They made an exceptional team. Beast monitored the engines.

During the battle, the Professor opened his minds to his attackers. There were approximately 280 minds on board the FOH vessel. The ship was of the same make as Freedom. The minds were experiencing varied emotions---anger, fear, exhilaration, depression, boredom, excitement. The Professor raced through the 280 minds until he reached that of the Captain of the FOH vessel. He took a deep breath and dived into the man's mind.

Charles learned that the FOH Captain was planning on ordering someone to contact other FOH ships in the area and add them to the fight. He learned that FOH had been stationing ships outside of Endaria for a few weeks now. FOH made had an educated guess that Endaria was the refuge the X-men were bringing the rescued mutant to----it was only logical given how the X-men and FOH's last battle near Endaria had ended.

Charles made a decision. He had to convince the FOH Captain to not contact other FOH starships. If he did so, the X-men would face a serious chance of being overwhelmed. Probability was high that the X-could defeat **one** FOH vessel in a space battle. They did not stand a good chance of defeating two or three. Given the new chill in Queen Marina's attitude towards the X-men combined with the xenophobic views of the Endarians, it was unlikely that they would be rescued should they lose the battle. The Professor silently debated with himself for only a second before entering the mind of the FOH Captain and influencing his actions.

From then on, it was fairly simple. He persuaded the Captain to question why they were fighting this battle at all. He suggested that the Captain cease this conflict. He entered the minds of the next level of higher-ups and made it seem reasonable to them that they were now being ordered to stand down from their fighting and turn away. Several members of the crew began forgetting about the encounter with Freedom. Others dimly remembered the battle but thought they had lost it. There was now confusion aboard the FOH vessel. Charles stayed inside their minds and soothed their confusion. The FOH Captain ordered that they set a new course, and the attacking vessel warped far away from Endaria. They forgot to report the battle to the FOH higher-ups back on earth.

The X-men then continued their journey towards earth. During the battle with FOH, they had sustained minor damage to their shields----nothing that a few hours of work couldn't repair.

We were all pretty freaked out after that battle. Well, maybe I should only speak for myself. Okay, I guess it wasn't a surprise that FOH knew we were staying on Endaria. That they should have known. It was freaky, though, that they had been stationing ships outside of Endarian space. But what was really worrisome was that they behaved as if our cloaking device was non-existent. We ran diagnostic after diagnostic on it and they all confirmed that the cloak was functional as it always had been.

Hank said it was not unreasonable to suppose they could have come up with the technology to detect cloaks. There are many brilliant scientists on earth and obviously many of them worked for FOH. Cloaking devices were man-made and certainly it was conceivable that someone came up with a way to detect them.

Unfortunately, we had no way to detect **their** cloak. Hank spent long hours in the lab trying to figure out the methodology behind this, how to go about finding cloaked ships. His early results were not encouraging.

All we could do was continue on towards earth with the knowledge that FOH, at any time, could be hiding out there and tracking us. Not very comforting knowledge. Bridge duty became even more important than before. Two X-men were on bridge duty at all times and I can say that none of us were playing computer games or chit-chatting while on duty anymore. We sat solemnly glued to our monitors, checking for any disturbances, ready at a second's notice to sound alarms and take our battle stations.

It impacted the way we went about our day to day activities when we weren't on bridge duty too. When we ate our meals, got dressed in the morning, trained in the Danger Room or played cards in the rec room, we had to be ready to jump up at any second. We knew the red alert siren could go off at any time. It was a bit like walking down a street at night stark naked. Here we were, naked in space and vulnerable to attack from any enemy that could strike without warning.

The Professor and Storm made their way to a conference room one evening. They had come from a tiring but successful day. The X-men's sessions in the Danger Room were going well. Every day, the X-men spent hours fighting simulated battles against FOH combined with Gorgeous Jorge, Pyro, Raucous and the other mutants who were working with FOH. Their simulations also involved using the Euphoria Vapor and liberating simulated camps. The team was doing exceedingly well, and that fact was helping to chase away fears many on board had been harboring since their encounter with the FOH ship.

Additionally, the Professor and Storm had just come out of a tactical meeting with Beast, Rogue and Wolverine. All three of their new field commanders-in-training were taking their new role seriously and offering strong suggestions. During Danger Room training, each had led several rescue missions and all three were excelling. Charles had not needed his telepathy to sense that the mood on the ship was gradually elevating since their skirmish with FOH two days ago.

"I am going to get myself some tea," Storm said, turning towards a food replicator. "Would you like anything?"

"No, thank you, Storm," the Professor answered.

Storm acquired her cinnamon and honey flavored tea, and sat down opposite Charles in the small meeting room. They briefly discussed the Danger Room sessions and agreed that the team was functioning as well as it ever had, and their new field commanders were strong choices.

"Everyone is starting to feel more calm than they had been since the battle," the Professor was saying. "And, as I reminded everyone at breakfast today, I am continually performing mental scans of the surrounding areas of space so that I can detect if other ships are near."

"They might still be able to cloak themselves, but they cannot hide from your powers," Storm said, smiling. Her expression then turned somber again and she looked at her hands as she folded them on the table. "Have you thought more about using your powers on our next rescue mission?"

The Professor nodded. Fleetingly, he wished Moira MacTaggert were on board this ship. He cared for Storm deeply, as he did for all of his X-men, and he had no qualms about confiding in her. But Charles would always have a teacher-student relationship with the X-men first and foremost. When he had difficult moral questions to ponder, he preferred to do so with Moira. She was more of a peer to him. But Moira was light years away now, and it would not have mattered even if she were present. Ever since the return of Banshee, Charles's former fiancee had been distant towards him. Charles quickly swallowed that pain and focussed, as he always did, on the future.

"I have been mulling over it quite a bit, Storm," the Professor finally answered. "The mental interference I performed during our battle two days ago…..it saved us our lives in all likelihood. But never before have I entered so many unwilling minds and committed so much interference."

"How do you feel about that?"

The Professor smiled. He could not chase away awkward feelings when it came to having a discussion on this level with one of his students. Storm was an adult----indeed she was one of the oldest in age of all the X-men. She was extremely mature and he had nothing but the highest respect for her and her opinions. But Charles still wished that he were doling out advice or guidance rather than confessing to uncertainty with Storm. "I have mixed feelings about it still. However, the more I think about it, the more comfortable I am becoming with the idea of using my powers in this manner to prevent a greater harm from occurring."

Storm nodded. "It does make sense. And you are not committing harm or malicious acts when you enter their minds." She paused and took a sip of her tea. She wished the cinnamon flavor were stronger as she could scarcely taste or smell it. "And when we get to earth…" she began, her tone questioning.

"I will locate the mind of the leader of all FOH. And I will enter it. I have decided that I will not force him to change his mind, but I will transmit sensations to him. I am going to have him experience some of the pain he has caused others. Perhaps once he experiences it as a victim, it will change his mindset."

Storm fought to hide her happiness and keep her expression placid. This was a major turnaround for Charles. Two years ago, he would have never considered such a plan. Of course, in the span of two years, the X-men had seen and survived things they would never have imagined even in their worst nightmares. Storm and the Professor discussed a few more items that evening before ending their meeting.

Charles went to his room and undressed for bed. He attempted to sleep, questions pouring over him in waves. He had debated himself so many times on this question. `It is time for me to trust that I made the right decision and go with it,' he told himself. Charles quieted his mind and allowed himself to slip into unconsciousness.

When sleep finally overtook him, his dreams were vivid and real. Charles rarely remembered his dreams but this night, he tossed and turned as the images played out in his mind. A familiar voice, a beloved voice spoke to him.

//Do you remember me, Charles?//

//How can you even ask the question? Of course I remember you. You are the greatest friend I ever had, and my greatest enemy.//

//Sometimes I think that you have forgotten all about me.//

//I think of you almost every day, Magnus. Do not ever doubt for a second that I grieved when I heard the Friends of Humanity killed you. I have spent the last two years mourning your death.//

//They killed you, too. They killed a part of you----your idealistic dream that humans and mutants could live in peace.//

//I still hold on to that dream, Magnus. However I have come to realize that I might never see it come to fruition within my lifetime. Why did you come to me tonight, Magnus?//

//Because I wanted to commend you. All those years I urged you to use your abilities to change the minds of humankind. I wanted to commend you for finally seeing the light.//

The images abruptly ceased. Charles sat up in his bed, sweating and shaking.

Hank and Panda lay in their bed together. The FOH bedframes did not support their combined weight, so they had removed the frame of the bed and slept on the floor, atop the mattress together. If they spooned, they could both fit their abundant bodies on the mattress.

Panda began to drift off into a contented, relaxed state. She and Hank had just finished making love. He was a gentle and tender lover. Perhaps not as spontaneous as could be, but she had plans to train him. She was feeling so good that the contentment had washed over her and was leading her into a blissful sleep.

"How much did you enjoy that? Did your enjoyment of it surpass the average or was it closer to the average?"

"Mmmmm," Panda replied, snuggling closer to Hank. "Wonderful," she murmured.

Hank held on to his confusion. He was glad that she said it was wonderful but that did not answer his question. He tried again. "What did you like best? What was your favorite thing that we did?" A pause. She didn't reply. "Did you observe that I was really enjoying your calves? You seemed to like it when I kneaded them."

Again, Panda did not reply though she kept her arms around Hank and remained cuddled against him. Hank then asked. "Did you have one orgasm or two? I was not sure but I thought that you perhaps had a second one, smaller in intensity than the first."

Hank started to worry. He lifted himself up on one arm and turned around to face her. "Jessica, I feel so insecure when you won't talk to me after lovemaking. Did I do something wrong?"

Panda shook her head and propped herself up to look at him. "Hank, will you relax? Everything was wonderful! It was great. I'm just feeling really mellow right now and I wanted to enjoy the feeling…When you talk so much, it spoils the mood a bit."

"Should I not talk **during** lovemaking either or just refrain from conversation afterwards? Should I not make any noise at all? Would you like it best if….."

Panda sighed, grabbed a pillow and put it over her head.

I was sitting on the floor of the rec room with Hank and Rory. I couldn't get over how fast she was growing. She was just 15 months old but she already did so much. Hank and I tried to keep up with her playing but she was wearing us out. She also very clearly missed Charlotte. Hank and I were babysitting since Jubilee was serving on her bridge duty shift.

"So, Hank, my friend," I began, "how is life in the realm of the sexually active?" It was a frivolous question, but I asked it anyway. The mood on the ship had been much better lately. The Professor reminded us that he was constantly scanning the area, using his powers. Our long-range sensors were powerful too. If FOH were in the vicinity, we would have enough warning. Besides, look at what the Professor did during our last starship battle with FOH. I guess if worse came to worse, he could save us again that way. I had been having many reassuring conversations with my fellow X-men and felt much better than I had right after the attack outside of Endaria.

Anyway, Hank shot me a disapproving look and didn't answer my question. So I continued on. "So, all those worries you had before….none of them turned out to be a real problem, did it?"

"Not at all," he answered.

"Sorry if I'm being nosy and all---it's just that-----"  


"You? Nosy? I cannot imagine." Hank smiled tolerantly. I don't think he was really exasperated with me, especially since he's put up with a lot over the years. : ) "I will say, my friend, that I am extremely happy and I know Panda feels the same way." I could tell he was elated and had been ever since he and his girl hit the sack together. Panda looked really happy all the time as well.

"Well that's good….you stud muffin, you," I grinned. He blushed.

"There is one aspect of the relationship that I find, to use the colloquial, takes some getting used to," Hank admitted. "Never before have I had to share a bed with anyone else. After thirty-six years of sleeping in a bed alone, sharing one is an unfamiliar sensation."

"But a good sensation?" I asked.

"Mostly. Except that Panda has a habit of snoring."

He and I smiled over that. Hank then craned his head around, as if to ensure that we were alone in the rec room. We were alone, of course, aside from Aurora who was occupied with her toys. He then leaned toward me and asked, in a more serious tone, "How has your health been? You haven't been feeling at all ill lately, have you?"

"I'm fine. Everything's normal." I knew what he was getting at and added, insistently, "Look, I promised I'd come see you if I ever felt sick and I'll stick to that promise. Don't worry about me. You said yourself that what that guy and I did wasn't all that risky. The odds of me contracting something have to be low."

"I agree. But I am your friend and am always concerned for your welfare. May I inquire as to how you and Northstar are doing? Have you told him yet?"

I swallowed. Obviously I knew what Hank meant; he didn't need to clarify. "No. Uh----I need to tell him. I need to get around to it."

"I know it will not be easy, but it is information he should know."

"Yeah, I know." What else could I say? I dreaded telling Jean-Paul that I fooled around on Ceti III, but I knew I had to. "I should do it soon, too," I said, as much to myself as to Hank.

"Why do you say that?"

"I think that Jean-Paul maybe is getting ready to take our relationship to the next level. Ever since Queen Marina got him a replacement arm, he's had this air about him….he's more confident now. A few others have commented on it too." I was going to elaborate a bit but for a second I had trouble sorting out which thoughts to tell Hank. Who really knew when Jean-Paul would be ready though? I could be reading him wrong. I didn't blame him for wanting to wait. Phillippe had pretty much been the love of his life. He rarely spoke of Phillippe but from the times he did, I knew he missed his lover greatly. I knew that Phillippe had meant to him more than anyone in his life, maybe even more than his sister. And speaking of his sister, he was obviously missing her a great deal.

I wanted to elaborate on this but then another thought just popped into my head, and I verbalized it instead. "I've learned a lot from this relationship. This is the first time I haven't plunged head first into something serious. With the other guys I've dated, we usually rushed into things way too fast. Even Michael and I did that," I said, referring to the man I had a three-year relationship with, years ago. Michael and I had ended things on good terms and I occasionally wondered how he was going.

"I see," Hank said. "I do not have much experience with relationships, but I see wisdom in progressing slowly."

I nodded. "Jean-Paul does too. It's better this way. We're actually taking the time to get to know each other. I like it."

"I am very glad it is working out well for you and that you have learned from this experience."

The doors to the room then slid aside, and Jubilee entered.

"Mama!" Rory exclaimed, rushing right up to her. Jubilee picked up her daughter and whirled her around. She greeted her and kissed her, and then turned to us, "Thanks, guys, for looking after her."

"Our pleasure," I said. "I love being an Uncle."

"I don't know how normal people on earth with kids manage to do it," Jubilee said. "Especially single people. There's no way I could take care of Aurora day in and day out without all of you guys."

Hank and I smiled at the praise. We were glad to help as I think pretty much all of the X-men were.

Jubilee sat down and started chatting with us. I watched her closely during our conversation. I think she was doing alright. Since we're a tight-knit bunch, word has a way of travelling and many had noticed that she had seemed a bit down lately. I thought she'd been doing better since the healing ceremony she and the other women had. Everyone looked after Jubilee, especially Wolverine. He was always checking in with her and spending time with her to make sure she was doing alright.

Psylocke and Wolverine sat on the bridge of Freedom. Wolverine sat near the weaponry controls and watched his console. Psylocke had a different method of monitoring space. She felt in touch with her powers, attuned to any mental activity that could be occurring outside of the couple dozen people on board Freedom. She was confident that Freedom was alone in the vast sea of space and no other ships were lurking nearby.

Psylocke shared her thoughts with Wolverine. "There's no one out there now," she said. "They've left us alone since the attack outside of Endaria."

"When they attack again, we'll be ready for those bastards," Wolverine said.

"You can handle anything," she said, her tone changing. "I saw you in practice today in the Danger Room. You're such a big, strong man."

Wolverine looked up from his console at the beautiful woman sitting next to him. Her scent was giving off unmistakable signals and she was eyeing him desirously. Ever since they'd set out for earth, he'd sensed her interest in him.

Logan didn't care much for gossip----but to an extent, learning what was going on in your teammates' lives was unavoidable when you spent all your time in such close quarters. For instance, everyone had heard through the grapevine of the Northstar-Bobby-Todd incident the evening before the X-men had departed An'zhina. And everyone knew that not only had Psylocke and Angel broken up, but she had already had a number of different lovers since then. Logan's senses allowed him to pick up on the fact that she had been with four men since splitting up with Angel.

Logan looked back down at his monitor. Betsy moved her chair closer to his and placed a hand on his thigh. "Maybe you can show me just how powerful you are," she murmured. Her hand slowly traveled up his thigh. "I would like that so much. And I know I could show you a thing or two."

Logan moved his chair away, picked up Betsy's hand and gave it back to her. "No thanks, darlin'", he mumbled.

"Why not?" she asked, innocently. Her voice then turned seductive again. "You won't be disappointed. I'll do whatever you want." She moved her face towards his, but Logan backed away.

"`Cause I said no," he replied.

"Is it because of Storm?" Psylocke asked. "I thought your relationship with her was purely sexual."

Logan wanted to answer, `It is,' but instead said, "None o' yer business. I ain't interested. No offense, darlin'."

With that, Wolverine got up and sat near another set of monitors on the bridge. Thankfully, Psylocke did not pursue him any more that day. They still had to finish out their bridge duty shift together.

Logan was not a man who enjoyed discussing his emotions with other people, but that didn't mean that he never thought of them himself. He generally didn't dwell on them but sometimes he had to think things through. Psylocke's overtures were causing Logan to remember some of the conversations Gambit used to goad him into during the weeks they'd spent laboring away in the Cetian mines. Gambit used to insist that deep down Wolverine had to love Storm. `No,' Logan thought. 'I'm too old to confuse sex with love.'

He and Storm had started up together when the X-men had been stranded on the Paradise Planet. At that point, Logan had gone for more than a year without sex and the only women there were Storm, Rogue, Jubilee and….Jean. As had been the case since the beginning, Jean was tantalizingly close but so agonizingly far out of reach. Rogue was also "taken", and even if she hadn't been, the two were simply not attracted to each other. And Logan just couldn't ever imagine having sex with Jubilee---far too incestuous, despite what Jubilee might later have tried to get him to go along with. So that had left Storm. Storm had initiated and the two had become lovers. Simple.

During the weeks Wolverine had been held prisoner on Ceti III, Gambit would often talk during their dinner or as they were trying to fall asleep. He tried to get Wolverine to admit to being in love with Storm. `But I ain't in love with her,' Wolverine thought. He loved her and respected her greatly, but he also knew that if Jean were to miraculously decide she wanted Wolverine, he would go off with her in an instant, without a thought for Storm.

Not that it was much use speculating on this. Logan knew that Jean would never, ever leave Cyclops. Even if good ole' Cyke were to drop dead someday, Jean still wouldn't betray his memory.

But what if another woman were to come along? Not Psylocke, of course. Heck yes, Logan found her attractive----what man wouldn't? Her beauty rivaled Jean's. But he knew that she was messed up in the head, and even if she wasn't, no way was he going to date another teammate's woman so shortly after they'd broken up. No way. Anyone could see Angel was miserable.

But what if someone other than Psylocke were to come along? Logan had reluctantly agreed one day, long ago, to discuss such scenarios with Storm. They decided that if either were to fall in love with someone else, they were free to end their liaison. However, the opportunity simply hadn't presented itself to Logan since he and Storm had taken up together. The xenophobic Endarians wanted nothing to do with the X-men, and the female camp survivors had been psychologically and physically abused. Although many of the camp survivors were recovering, as he'd observed on his last stay on An'zhina, none (aside from Psylocke) had expressed any interest in Logan. So that was it.

Logan also observed that the other men stayed away from Storm. If he mulled over it, in a way Logan liked the thought that the other men knew that Storm was "his" and therefore feared the wrath of Wolverine if they were to proposition Storm. One day, though, he'd overheard Storm talking to someone else. She said that men stayed away from her because they were intimidated by such a powerful woman. There probably was truth to both reasons. Whatever the case, the opportunity of starting a relationship with someone else had not presented itself to Storm either.

So here they remained----friends and companions, and lovers too but not soulmates. In a way, that suited him just fine. Logan had long-ago resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going to have a "happy ever after" type of relationship. `Leave the flowers, candy, and all that stuff to the Cajun or to One-Eye. It ain't in the mix for me,' he thought.

For a while, he had thought their arrangement suited Storm just fine too. But Logan also could tell that her feelings for him ran a bit deeper. Try as she might to control and mask her feelings, Logan just had a way of knowing. Fortunately, Storm hadn't said anything about it to him.

All those thoughts swam through his mind for the remainder of his bridge shift and during dinner. As if on auto-pilot, he sought out Storm when they were finished eating. He gave her the look. She gave him the nod and off they went.

"You nervous, Remy?" Rogue asked one evening, as the couple sat together in their room.

"We be okay, chere. You know dat the Professor and Psylocke be usin' deir powers to monitor space all the time. Dey'll sense anyt'ing, if deir are any FOH around."

Gambit and Rogue were half-heartedly playing a card game on the small table in their quarters. Gambit found himself looking around the small room, partly wishing they were back on An'zhina, enjoying its sandy beaches and wide open grassy areas. The X-men were less than a week out from Endarian space, but Freedom felt cramped already. It would be even more cramped assuming their next mission went well. Tonight most of the others were hanging out in the rec room, the gym was being used, and the bridge was now off the list as a potential hang-out area since two people were on bridge duty at all times. So the couple had retreated to their room for some time alone.

"Are **you** nervous, chere?" Gambit asked.

"A little," Rogue replied. It didn't feel at all awkward to admit this to Gambit. They shared so much of their thoughts and feelings with each other, things they wouldn't confess to anyone else. "They're gonna know when we get closer to earth since they can see us even when we're cloaked. And if we even can enter earth's orbit at all and launch a rescue mission, we're gonna have to face all those traitor mutants who are helping them."

"You beat the pants off dem every day in the Danger Room. You'll be fine." He paused and looked intently at her. "Are you feelin' more stressed since you be training to be a field commander now?"

Rogue shrugged. "Maybe that's part of it. I dunno. I know I can do it. Back when Mystique was using me, she trained me in basically the same role and I did just fine." She paused and the edges of her lips curved upwards as several memories floated by.

"What is it?" Gambit asked, seeing the bemused expression on her face.

"Jus' thinking back to those days. I was gonna say how well I did as a field commander back then, but I was way too young and stupid to be afraid. An' I was also thinking that I didn't feel honored to be a field commander then because look who I beat out for the job. Pyro. Blob. Avalanche. We ain't talkin' the sharpest tools in the shed here."

Rogue and Gambit shared a laugh. Rogue then abruptly added, "Sometimes I miss her."

"Mystique?" Gambit asked, his tone questioning but not surprised.

"Yeah. I know, I know. She did some really horrible things in her life," Rogue said, as she reflected. "An' maybe she really was rotten to the core. I just hate thinking of how FOH must've tortured her and killed her. Maybe I should worry more over all the innocent mutants they're hurting instead. But whatever else Mystique did in her lifetime, she saved me. I was homeless and penniless when she took me in. My Daddy had----" Abruptly, Rogue stopped her retrospection.

"What is it, chere?" Gambit asked quietly. Rogue looked confused.

She struggled to verbalize her thoughts. "I----I don't know. This is hard to explain," she said, groping for words. "It's like lately whenever I think of him---and I don't ever think of him too often----it's like some….some alarm goes off in my head and my train of thought stops dead. I---I can't figure it out."

Gambit looked at her and nodded. She rarely ever spoke of her life before Mystique. A year or so ago, Rogue had shared her real name with Gambit and she'd told him a smidgen of information about her pre-Mystique life. He hadn't pressed her for more since he could tell it was not a topic she enjoyed speaking about. In fact, it seemed as though she remembered very little of it.

"You remembering something bad, maybe?" Gambit asked.

"I just don't know," she said, still sounding bewildered.

"Maybe you outta talk to the Professor `bout it. Gambit sure dat he'd love to try to help you. `Course I'm glad to listen to you too, chere. But the Professor got the experience with dis sorta stuff."

"You're right," Rogue said. "He's offered before but I never even considered it. Lately I been thinking maybe I should."

"I t'ink it couldn't hurt. Besides…..he won't be busy wit' any counseling till we get to earth. No one else here is working wit' him."

"I know," Rogue said. "What a shame Betsy ain't anymore. She needs it more than anyone." Rogue sounded a lot more like her old self now that the topic had changed. "I couldn't believe her flirtin' with Kurt at dinner today."

Gambit shook his head. "Gambit 'bout fainted when he saw dat. An' poor Kurt was so embarrassed."

"But did you see Angel? I think he looked ready to kill someone. Poor guy."

Rogue much preferred this line of subject matter to the previous one. They continued with their card game and kept on chatting until they were ready for bed. After they'd undressed and climbed under the covers, Gambit asked her again to consider working with the Professor. The idea was starting to look less unappealing to Rogue.

Psylocke was working out in the gym late one evening. She had changed the lighting level of the gym so that the large room was mostly darkened. Psylocke preferred it that way. Something about a blanket of darkness comforted her ever since she'd been rescued from the FOH camp. Her conscious mind had forgotten that the barracks she'd been held prisoner in and in which she'd endured daily, brutal assaults had been lit with bright, glaring lighting.

Completely absorbed in her exercises, she spun around and gasped when she realized she wasn't alone anymore. In the space of a split second, Psylocke silently cursed herself for letting her guard down like that. Years ago her reflexes would never have been this poor

"Stay away from my man, Psylocke," the voice behind her said. The words were spoken slowly by Storm. Her voice was heavy and serious; Psylocke had never heard Storm sound quite like this.

Psylocke absorbed Storm's demand. "Is he really **your** man?" she asked, her composure recovered. Her eyebrows were raised and her voice artificially breezy and friendly.

"Yes. Our arrangement doesn't include you," Storm replied, smoothly and calmly.

Psylocke smiled. "Whatever you say, Storm." She shrugged. "I didn't mean to step on your toes," she said, simply. Psylocke resumed working on the upper body resistance exercises she was performing. She did a few more reps and heard Storm's footsteps retreating. Psylocke then turned around again and said to Storm's back, "I thought the only part of his that belonged to you was his cock. We both know the only woman he loves is Jean. Being a telepath, I can't help but to be aware of things like this. It's difficult when you love someone who doesn't love you." Psylocke's words may have sounded sympathetic, but her tone was almost taunting. She then continued, "But when it comes to sex, I know Wolverine's got….energy for more than one woman. That's why I asked him. I'm sorry Storm." The apology sounded as artificial as it was intended to be.

  
Storm stopped walking. She then took a breath, forced herself to ignore Psylocke, and resumed heading towards the exit.

`Shame on me,' Storm thought, as she boarded a turbo-lift and headed for the hallway that would take her to her quarters. `What kind of a leader am I? I am going to need to find a way to keep working with Betsy.' She shook her head. `How could I have let my emotions get a hold of me like that? What is wrong with me?'

Storm decided that she would write in her journal that evening. She had to. Although the powerful Wind Rider enjoyed having Rogue or Jubilee confide in her, Storm couldn't abide by opening herself up and sharing her inner feelings with others. On the rare occasions that she did so, Jean Grey was usually her confidant, and Jean was now thousands of light-years away.

`Of course, even if Jean were not so far away, this is not a matter that I could share with her,' Storm later wrote in her journal. `I sound like a jealous school-girl, but I know that part of my turmoil has to do with how Logan feels for Jean. I do not resent Jean at all for this. But I must get control of my emotions and not have anymore outbursts like the one I had with Betsy today. It is not Betsy's fault--or Jean's fault, for that matter—that Logan does not love me. I believe that all women are sisters and it is time my actions demonstrated that belief.'

`And I also must be careful not to resent Logan,' she wrote. `Love cannot be forced and he is not to blame for not being in love with me. I must accept this situation and learn to deal with it. If I cannot accept it, then I have the option of breaking off the relationship that Logan I do have.' Storm put the pen down and shook her head. No way. She would never give up the piece of Logan that was hers.

"Bad mutant baby!"

The words were spoken by seven year old Stephan as he delivered a smack across Charlotte's face. The two children had been in the play room, being babysat by Jeanne-Marie. Charlotte had made her way over to Stephan and tried to hug him when he yelled at and slapped her.

"Stephan!" Jeanne-Marie said, getting up from the book she'd been immersed in. She physically put herself in between the two and, bending down, placed her hands on Stephan's shoulders. "Why did you hurt her?" she asked, her tone not hiding her anger. She resisted the urge to shake her son or strike him.

"She's a bad ugly mutie!"  
  
"Stephan! **I** am a mutant and **I'm** your mother. And I love you. A lot of good people are mutants. You should never---" Jeanne-Marie's communicator beeped and she turned her attention to it. "Yes?"

"It's Jean," the voice on the other end said. Jean Grey was working with some of the camp survivors that afternoon and had left Charlotte in Jeanne-Marie's care. "Is everything okay? I sensed some distress from Charlotte." Jean's voice was obviously full of concern.

`There is no chance of hiding anything from her,' Jeanne-Marie knew. She said, "Charlotte is alright now. Jean, I apologize but my son has been acting horribly. He….he called her a name and slapped her. I've got him separated from her now. I'm terribly sorry. I don't know what caused this. I'm sure Charlotte didn't do anything."

"How's Charlotte?" Jean asked, trying to calm her anger and focussing on the condition of her daughter.

"She's fine. She's not crying. She's sitting down watching us. She seems to be fine though." Charlotte's calmness was quite a surprise to the former Alpha Flight member.

Jean debated stopping in there to pick up her daughter. She mentally linked up with Charlotte and was convinced that the baby was alright. She then asked Jeanne-Marie to contact her if anything else should happen, and resumed working with her group.

Jeanne-Marie turned back towards her son. "Stephan, you must never hit someone else. Especially not an innocent child. And you must learn to see mutants as human beings. You love me, don't you? I'm a mutant."

"I hate muties! And I hate it here! There's nothing to do. I wanna be back home, with my friends."

"We spoke about this, honey. You know that we can't go----"

"We can't cause my mother's a fucking mutant! I hate you!" With that, the boy ran out of the room.

Jeanne-Marie slumped down to the floor. She dropped her head on her hands and remained that way for many long moments.

She suddenly felt a little tap. Charlotte had crawled up to her and had her little arms open as if she wanted to give Jeanne-Marie a hug. Jeanne-Marie picked up the baby and cuddled her.

Chapter 4

Chapter 6 


	6. Chapter 6

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 7

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 6

I stepped into the gym for my morning training session. We were roughly two weeks into our five week journey to earth. The days had been uneventful. The Professor and Psylocke did not detect FOH lurking around. Hank continued to attempt to discern how they were able to detect our cloak ---to no avail, he informed us ----and we all continued to train for hours every day.

That morning, I reached the gym earlier than most. Jean-Paul, however, already was in the room, working away. Shirtless, he had a sheen of sweat over his torso as he lifted various weights. He was absorbed in it, breathing and lifting. I leaned against a wall and just gazed at him for a while. So beautiful. His arms and shoulders bulged with rippling muscles. Masculine and strong but sensitive and caring underneath. My heart did flip flops and I had such a yearning well up inside of me, both physical and emotional.

I finally made myself snap out of it. What was the use? I could look but not touch, and if I kept looking, I was going to have to make a trip to my room and take care of business before starting the day's workout.

"`Morning, Jean-Paul," I said, walking up towards him and making my presence known.

"Good morning," he said, returning my smile, oblivious to the fact that I'd been watching him. My heart practically melted. Sometimes I wondered if he knew what sort of effect he had on me. And sometimes I wondered if I affected him quite as much. I often thought that I didn't. He still thought of Phillippe a lot and I started to doubt that I could ever compete with this ghost from the past.

So I joined Jean-Paul in working out, and shortly afterwards, others filtered into the gym and Danger Room programs were initiated. Our morning was a flurry of activity and the hours flew by as we X-men battled simulated FOH soldiers and traitor mutants. The imagination of that computer program always kept me guessing.

"You want to have lunch together?" he asked me, after we'd showered and changed. We occasionally had a meal together in one of the conference rooms just so we could have some privacy. Between training and bridge duty shifts that didn't coincide, we didn't always get to spend that much actual time together.

So off we went to a small conference room as soon as we'd grabbed our lunch from the mess hall. The sterile conference room consisted of a table with five chairs surrounding it and nothing more. Someday I vowed to decorate Freedom. Our rec room looked nice, adorned with Colossus's paintings and several plants I put there, but the rest of the ship still looked like a plain military vessel.

"I miss Jeanne-Marie," Jean-Paul said as he sat down and dug into his stir fry.

"It must be so hard for you," I said.

"At least I know she is safe," he sighed. "An'zhina is about as safe a place as you can get."

"It's a good healing place too. So many of the camp survivors are doing way better. Your sister still has some emotional healing to do, I think. Maybe the setting will help her."

"I hope so. And she does need it; you're right, mon ami. It is just hard to get used to. I cannot remember the last time Jeanne-Marie and I were so far apart. It is hard to believe that we're millions of light years away." He paused and took a bite of his meal. "Ah well. We must believe that all will turn out well, right Bobby?"

"Yes," I said. Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. I'd been dragging my feet for almost two months now. I had to tell Jean-Paul. We were alone, he seemed to be in a decent mood…..I decided to just do it. "I have something to tell you, Jean-Paul," I said, trying to not gulp.

His expression immediately turned to one of concern. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No. I mean…..well, sort of. Here's what happened," I said, tripping and stumbling over words. I pulled out from memory the words I'd practiced saying to the mirror a dozen times. "When I was held prisoner on Ceti III, I did something I'm not proud of. I had sex with one of the other prisoners."

Jean-Paul's jaw fell open and he set his fork back down. "What?" he asked.

I swallowed. "I wish I hadn't done it. I know it was really stupid of me. But one of the other prisoners kept pursuing me and I went along with it. We had sex a few times."

His expression turned from shock into anger. "I can't believe this. I can't fucking believe this! So what did you and this guy do? Go fuck each other in the bathrooms or something??"

His anger shocked me and sent a bolt of fear to my heart. I mean, I knew he wasn't going to be happy about it. But the look in his eyes was absolutely furious. I was so stunned I couldn't reply for a few seconds. "Look, Jean-Paul….I'm really sorry. I know it was a dumb thing to do. It's just that------"  


"Just what? Did you forget about me? Did you---" he stopped himself. "Forget it," he said, shoving his chair away from the table and getting up. He didn't even look at me as he turned and headed for the door. His plate of food was left sitting on the table.

I sat there, my appetite totally vanquished. I was too shocked to start crying. I was afraid too----I'd never seen such rage on Jean-Paul's face before.

Maybe this will sound completely naïve of me, but I really hadn't expected him to be so angry. I'm not the first man---gay or straight---to do something like this. And compared to a lot of gay guys I knew, I can hardly be called promiscuous. When I lived in San Francisco, I knew guys who had (or, who said they had) slept with literally hundreds of men. I certainly had sowed my wild oats in my lifetime but never to that extent. And at the time I was on Ceti III, Jean-Paul and I had definitely been in the process of starting something, but we hadn't sworn each other undying love or made a real commitment yet. Part of me had really thought that Jean-Paul would have been understanding of what I was going through at the time.

I didn't chase after Jean-Paul once he left the room. I didn't want to face his anger and the look on his face had really frightened me. So I sat in the conference room, playing with my food and staring at the white walls.

I had bridge duty next. Angel and I were scheduled together and we sat in five hours of complete silence, looking at our monitors, each wrapped up in his own sadness.

The next day I sat in the rec room in the late morning. I was done training for the day and hadn't done particularly well after a night spent tossing and turning in bed. We had a computer in the rec room and I was half-heartedly playing a game on it when Jubilee, Aurora, and Wolverine entered the room. We said hi to each other and mostly Jubilee and Wolverine talked for a while and played with her baby.

The door to the rec room slid aside and Jean-Paul walked through. Jubilee turned her head and greeted him, but as soon as he saw me, he promptly stopped in his tracks and stepped back out of the room without saying anything to anyone.

"What was that all about?" Jubilee asked, looking in my direction.

I took a deep breath. I really had no desire to discuss this with anyone. "He's mad at me," I said.

"Why? What's wrong?" she asked, giving me a sympathetic look.

"A lovers' spat," I said, trying to make my tone flip. I then said, more seriously, "I'd rather not talk about this Jubes, okay?"

She nodded. "How bad is it? Are you and he going to get back together?" she asked.

"I don't know. I hope so." I turned back to my computer game, indicating that our conversation was over. Jubilee and Wolverine went back to whatever they were talking about and shortly, other people entered the rec room too.

I wondered if Wolverine knew. Sometimes you forget how hyper his senses were, but sitting in the rec room that day, I remembered that he had turbo hearing, smelling----everything. I recalled the day, so long ago, when we'd succeeded in imprisoning all the FOH soldiers who had survived the battle for control of this ship. Wolverine and I were there, throwing the last of the soldiers into the brig. Many were unconscious or disabled from our fighting. I then turned my head and saw Wolverine go up to virtually each man and sniff. Afterwards, he had a berserker fit which included destroying several walls and being forcibly restrained by Colossus. I later learned that Wolverine's sense of smell had told him which soldier had raped which woman how many times. So Wolverine had to have known about my affair on Ceti III. I'm sure he could've smelled it. He never said anything about it though.

Well, word travels fast on a starship with just two dozen people on it. Usually, Jean-Paul and I either sat together during meals or we took our food and ate together in a conference room. That day we sat as far as possible from each other in the mess hall for lunch and dinner. Rogue and Gambit, separately, went up to me and asked if everything was alright at some point during that day. I tried to keep my answers as vague as possible.

I berated myself for even telling Jean-Paul. I originally wasn't going to. I had wanted to forget the whole incident but my conscience got the best of me and reminded me that I'd better get tested for diseases. Then Hank had asked me about telling Jean-Paul and it snowballed from there. Now I wished I'd just done what I was originally going to do and not say a word to anyone.

No. I did the right thing. I'm not a petulant 18 year old who doesn't have to think about the consequences of his actions anymore.

So I brainstormed by myself on the best way to handle this. I knew I didn't want to approach Jean-Paul that day. He needed cooling off time. But I tried to figure out what to do next, how to make it better. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to go about this.

The next morning I was on bridge duty with Storm. She asked me how I was doing and was basically offering to play therapist with me (without saying it in so many words.) I thanked her and told her I was fine and didn't want to talk about "it." We both knew what the "it" was.

"Chere, you know dat it's the right t'ing to do. It will make you feel better."

"You're right, Remy. You always are."

Gambit pulled Rogue towards him for an embrace. He held her for many long moments. He wanted to kiss her again but had to remind himself that her collar was off for the day.

Rogue was getting ready to go talk to the Professor about the disturbing memories she'd been having. She spoke with him yesterday and he seemed very pleased that she'd asked to talk to him about it. So they arranged to meet for a few hours this morning. Rogue had been getting cold feet, but Gambit encouraged her to go.

She and the Professor had decided yesterday to meet in his room. They had the least chance of any interruptions in there. Rogue had never really felt awkward around the Professor, at least not for many years, but that day, she felt as if she'd been called to the principal's office or something along those lines. The Professor and Rogue both set their communicators on "emergency stand-by", which meant that they would only be disturbed in the event of an emergency. He asked her to sit in a chair across from him, and they began.

Wolverine walked down the hall, returning to his room. It was quite late at night (actually, very early in the morning) and he had bridge duty in six hours. No matter. His particular abilities made him less reliant on sleep than most; he would be fine with just a few hours that night, as long as he didn't make a habit out of such a schedule.

He peeled off his clothing and settled into the empty bed. He still had the aroma of Storm all over him. He would shower in the morning but for now, he wanted to enjoy her scent as he drifted off to sleep. The scratches she'd marked his back with had long since healed. As he fell into a contented state, he smiled as his mind replayed some of his lovemaking with Storm that evening. She'd had at least three---maybe four---orgasms. Two of her orgasms had been particularly intense, he could smell. Logan thought he himself had had four. It was easy to lose count. Logan had suggested one new thing that evening which she'd enjoyed so much that she'd actually screamed. Storm usually moaned and even cried out but she generally wasn't a screamer. Logan had grunted with satisfaction at himself. Storm was amazing. A more sensual woman, he'd never known.

He fell asleep and his mind turned away from those thoughts of making love with Storm. Wolverine's sleep was plagued by images, as it so often was. He experienced such visions so often that he had no idea if they were remnants of his hidden past or random images his mind conjured up on a whim. He never knew whether the pictures that came to him in his sleep held hidden meanings and it had been going on for so long, he wasn't about to waste his time trying to figure it all out.

That particular night, he envisioned the woman who had been in his dreams several times before. He didn't "see" her as often as he experienced some of the other images that came to him, but he still had seen her many times before. He kept reaching for her, trying to get his arms around her but he failed every time. He couldn't even see her face or discern her features. He knew very little about her and had no idea where that smattering of knowledge came from. All he knew was that she was a petite Asian woman and she was his wife. He didn't know whether he loved her or not but he thought he at least cared for her a great deal. In the images that ran through his mind, Logan would try to make love to her. She cowered and trembled, hating everything about the act but submitting to it as her duty. Logan tried everything to make it enjoyable, or even tolerable, for her but she lay there like a tense wire. If he tried to touch her, she squeezed her eyes together tightly and endured. If he tried to lick her, she pleaded with him to stop. If he held her tenderly and told her that he loved her, she relaxed a little bit but still hoped and prayed it would end soon.

Logan didn't remember anything else about her, except that she died soon after they were married. From that point on, the images (memories? visions?) got hazy and the woman was gone from his mind.

Logan woke from his sleep. As much as he tried to not let it affect him, he was disturbed. He briefly considered telling Storm about these images but as always, he chased the idea out of his mind.

The X-men continued on towards their troubled home world. With roughly two and a half weeks now to go on their voyage, they were at the half-way point between earth and Endaria. There was eerie silence from FOH. Neither the Professor nor Psylocke sensed any other starships within range, and the sensors, of course, picked up nothing. The X-men continued on, bracing themselves for anything.

Back on earth, a young FOH soldier by the name of Mark went about his daily routine. He kept watch at the Mutant Containment Center he was assigned to, working a seven hour shift. During part of his shift, he sat in a tower and kept a visual watch of the area. Mid-way through his shift, he switched to the control center of the camp and watched several monitors which would detect disturbances both in this area and any problems with other Containment Centers. They kept in constant contact with FOH headquarters in Washington DC and with the nine other Mutant Containment Centers.

After his work for the day was over, he joined his buddies for dinner in the mess hall. The men relaxed once their shift for the day was through. They all drank heavily. Some of them, Mark noted, seemed to be forcing themselves to down as much alcohol as possible. Mark did the same thing himself often. Somehow it was all easier that way. Loud boasting, bragging and arguing ensued. And then, as usual, a group wanted to go to the women's barracks and avail themselves of the female prisoners. "You comin', Mark?" one of them asked. Mark had come up with good reasons to decline going along with the group several times over the last few years. But he risked being ostracized, mocked, or even---worst of all----being called a queer if he didn't go along with it every now and then. So off he went.

There were over 20 women in this particular barrack they entered. The lines were long so Mark scanned for the shortest line and plodded his way over to it. He closed his eyes, wishing he could block out all of his senses----the sounds and the smells in particular. His turn came after perhaps a fifteen minute wait. He went up to the cot and took a hold of the bottle of pills that was placed next to the cot. After just seconds, the pill provided an instant erection and Mark unzipped his pants.

She was not new to the camp, Mark guessed, but she likely hadn't been there since the camp opened either. You could tell the ones who had been around for a while and she didn't look quite as vacant as the veterans---though she was getting there. One of her eyes was swollen and she bled from her lips. She wasn't tied to the bed; she lay there like a limp noodle. She was filthy, so he pointed to the showers on the side of the room. Wordlessly she got up and washed off. The woman then trudged back to the bed and lay there on her back. She closed her eyes and spread her legs.

Mark shut his eyes too and climbed on top of her for the painful duty. Like all the women here, she was dry as dust. The lubricated condom he wore made it tolerable, at least. The soldiers were reminded to wear condoms each time for their own protection as you never knew how many diseases the promiscuous mutant women carried. Mark shut his eyes and fantasized, pretending he was anywhere but here…..with someone else, anyone else.

He missed his girlfriend. He'd broken it off with her because he could no longer look her in the eyes. Finally, at long last, he ejaculated and got off of the mutant woman.

Later, the nineteen year old soldier joined some of the other soldiers in watching television. After putting in a few hours of that, Mark retreated to his quarters for the night. He shared a room with three other men. Mark climbed to the top bunk bed and tried to sleep.

He missed his brother.

His older brother, Mike, had joined FOH first. The brothers grew up in the Midwest. The steel mill where their grandfather, father, and uncles all had worked for decades was long since shut down by the time Mike was in high school. As the recession got worse and worse, unemployment skyrocketed and the family couldn't pay their bills any longer. Their father got very sick but none of the part time jobs he or his wife worked at provided health insurance benefits. So Mike joined FOH as soon as he turned 18, and Mark followed his brother a few years later. They were paid reasonable wages and given a full benefits package. Their parents were now doing alright and able to start making a dent in their medical bills.

Mike was dead now. After two years of outstanding service in FOH, Mike had been one of the chosen few selected to go on the infamous raid against the X-men. It had all seemed to be going so well. From the starship The Defender, Mike had emailed his brother, letting him know that they captured most of the X-men and were en route to the planet where the mutant renegades would all be executed. But then something happened. FOH headquarters lost all contact with the Defender. Weeks went by with no word whatsoever. Then, another FOH craft had been attempting to dispose of members of Alpha Flight when the Defender attacked. Since then, the Defender, now in the hands of the X-men, had made two trips to earth. So Mark knew his brother had to be dead. Mark remembered all the fun times they'd had growing up together and he wished for his brother back.

The next day at the camp, FOH executed one of the male mutants for using profanity with a guard. The mutant had been brought to the middle of the camp's square, and all the prisoners and FOH soldiers had to stand around as he was tortured and then killed. Mark tried to focus his eyes on the clouds in the distance or the birds flying by. He blocked out the man's screams by mentally replaying his favorite pop tunes.

Mark knew he had to find a way to end this.

Somehow I let five days slip by. Whenever Jean-Paul and I passed each other in the hall, he looked away and I looked down. During meals, we sat at opposite ends of the table. We managed to be in the Danger Room at different times. He kept to himself and rarely made an appearance in the rec room. One morning I woke up and realized that five whole days had passed since our fight.

On the fifth day, fortunately Gambit and I were scheduled for bridge duty together. And he didn't waste much time before getting down to business. "What are you doing, Bobby? You an' Northstar just gonna ignore each other forever?"

I sighed. Up to that point, I had resisted attempts made by anyone to get me to talk about it. But I was so down and I missed Northstar so much, I decided to indulge Gambit. "I just don't know what to do, Remy," I said. I didn't look at Gambit, keeping my gaze towards my monitor. We were sitting side by side in the captain's and first officer's chairs.

"He be mad at you, right?" Gambit asked. I nodded, and he continued, "Gambit not trying to be nosy an' I won't ask you for the details. But Bobby….if he's mad at you, den you gotta make the first move to get him back!"

"I know," I said, looking at my hands. I was a bit relieved. Gambit likely wasn't going to ask me **why** Jean-Paul was angry. "But what do I do?"

"You care 'bout him?" Gambit asked. I could tell he was looking intently at me though I'd turned my view back to my console.

"Of course. I think I might even be in love with him."

"Den what the hell you waiting for? If he's mad at you, the next step is yours. You gotta make amends."

"I don't know what else to do. I mean, I told him I was sorry. That didn't seem to help."

"Den tell him again!" Gambit insisted. "Do whatever it takes. Write him a letter and tell him how sorry you are."

"You know, Remy….that's a good idea. Maybe a letter would do it."

"Whatever you do, make it fast. You two been avoiding each other for days. You don't wanna wait too much longer. T'ings not gonna get better on deir own."

"I know," I said quietly. I think subconsciously I'd been hoping they would, hoping Jean-Paul would approach me and want to talk. But I was starting to realize what a pipe dream that was.

"What making you drag your feet like dis?"

"I don't know…." I let my voice trail off. "He was so angry," I said finally. "I just hate to see that kind of anger again." It was true. Both my Mom and Dad were always mad about something and I hated it. I don't handle other people's anger well, especially when it's directed at me.

"Well, we be at earth soon. Who know what will happen? This mission will have to be better den the last one, but if it ain't….you gonna regret not patchin' t'ings up wit' him. Maybe you just gotta deal with him bein' mad. Rogue an' I talk about dis sort of t'ing together an' we say sometimes you have to face the t'ing you afraid of."

I turned towards Gambit and smiled. "I think you're right. You know….I just realized that you and I were having this conversation a few years ago. But it was about Rogue and she was all upset, and **I** advised **you** to write her a letter."

I hadn't meant to bring the mood down but Gambit's unique eyes turned somber. I assumed he was thinking back to those dark days. Nice one, Bobby. "You right," he said. "Took Gambit some time but I won her back."

"How's she doing nowadays?" I asked. I knew that Rogue was working with the Professor on something. No one could keep a secret around here but I didn't know any of the details.

"She's good. She an' Xavier workin' on trying to look at her memories, see what from her past is buggin' her."

"Has she been depressed lately?"

"Not really. She's been a little down but she okay."

"Is the Professor helping her?"

"It be slow-going. But dat okay. Dey'll figure it out. She's one tough woman."

And so, I took Gambit's advice. I waited until bridge duty was over because we really were supposed to devote our full attention to it. But as I stared at my monitor, I tried to organize my thoughts. I kept going over what to say and playing around with the order. I never got it quite to my satisfaction but, as soon as my shift was over, decided to just sit down and write it even if it wasn't going to be perfect.

Jean-Paul Beaubier returned to his room after another training session. He glimpsed something peeking out from under the door. When the door slide aside, he grabbed and then unfolded the piece of paper. It read:

"Dear Jean-Paul,

I am writing this letter to you because I miss you. I care about you very, very much and these last few days with you mad at me have been really hard.

I am sorry about what I did on Ceti III. It was really stupid of me and I regret it. I've done some stupid things in my lifetime but I think I regret this the most since it's made you mad at me. I never meant to hurt you.

I'm not trying to make excuses but I thought I'd write a bit about what our lives were like in the mines and what led to me do what I did. Each day, it was hard to get out of bed. We never went outside or were allowed to see any natural light. We spent all day at physically demanding work. Guards watched over us all the time and would use the collar on us if we did anything they didn't like---including talking too much or resting for too long. If we got any injuries, they wouldn't do anything to help us unless it was severe. The whole time we had all sorts of injuries and sore muscles which ached constantly but nothing could be done about. At the end of the workday, there was nothing to do except go to sleep. Our lives really were miserable. They served us three meals a day but whatever the food was, it was terrible. It always tasted either bland or sour and sometimes I couldn't choke it down. There wasn't ever any happiness or pleasure in our lives there. So this one guy kept pursuing me, and I finally went along with him. I wasn't thinking. I was just desperate at that point for a few moments of fun, a few moments to take my mind off how miserable everything else was.

I want to say again how sorry I am about this. I feel awful that what I did has hurt you. If I was thinking at the time, I never would have done it. Is there ever any chance we could talk about this or any chance we might get back together? I miss you so much.

Bobby"

I left the note for Jean-Paul an hour or two before I retired to my quarters for the evening. I hadn't been fully happy with the letter but I'd re-written it so many times that my hand was sore and I finally reached a point where I decided the letter was as good as it was going to get. I then spent at least an hour sitting in bed, re-reading the same few paragraphs of a book over and over again and watching my door out of the corner of my eye. After a few hours or watching, hoping and waiting, no one called me on my communicator or came to my door. I finally fell asleep with the lights on.

When I woke up, the first thing I did was look under my door. Nothing. I showered and went to the mess hall for breakfast. Jean-Paul wasn't there; he didn't always eat with the group. Most of my morning was spent, as usual, in training. Jean-Paul was in the gym for part of it but, as with the last six days, we didn't interact at all. I tried to make eye contact with him but he didn't return any of my looks.

When I got back from lunch, I walked down the hall to my room. My heart sank when I spotted my doorway and saw nothing underneath it. I went inside anyway and….there was a note on the floor! It apparently had slid all the way under.

My hands shook and I forced myself to sit down before reading the letter.

"Dear Bobby,

English is not my first language and I speak much better than I write, so if I make any grammer mistakes in this letter, please excuse. I am angry at you. What you did was stupid for one thing, and I am so mad that you didn't think of me or how I would be hurt from it. These last few days I been thinking about why I am so angry and I think I know what it is. All my life I been fighting against these stereotypes that straight people have about homosexuals. I tell people all my life that the sterotypes are wrong, and then you go out and fulfil one. Maybe I would do the same thing if I been back there too but I think and hope I would not. And I feel also that I lost almost everyone in my life who I loved. I lost Phillippe, my parents, my Uncle Raymonde, most of my Alpha Flight family and now my nephew has been brainwashed and it is like he is gone to. Sometimes I think I don't ever want to care about anyone ever again. But I do still care about you and I miss you even though I am angry with you too. I want to make it work with you but it scares me a bit. When you get this letter, come to see me and we should talk. Jean-Paul"

When I finished I wanted to shout with happiness. He was willing to give me another chance!

My happiness turned into a twinge of fear. He did say he was angry. I took a deep breath and reminded myself of what I talked about with Gambit. If Jean-Paul was angry, I was going to have to face it. There was no going forward if I didn't go **through** it.

So I walked down the hall to Jean-Paul's quarters and knocked. No answer. I then used my communicator to signal him. "Northstar," he said, answering the page.

"It's Bobby," I said. "I, uh, got your note." A very awkward pause. He and I then both started to say something at the same time and accidentally cut each other off. Then we each told the other to go first. We bumbled around like this for a bit, but then I said, "I'm glad you sent me the note and that you want to talk."

"I'm in the gym now. Where are you? Your room?"  


"Yes. Er---well, I'm in the hall now."

"I'll come to your room as soon as I'm changed, okay?"

So I returned to my quarters and waited. This was one of the more agonizing waits I could recall. I didn't know what to do so I paced around like an expectant father. Every now and then I picked up the book I'd attempted to immerse myself in the previous evening but failed to read more than a paragraph or two.

After what seemed like forever, Jean-Paul knocked on my door and I opened it. We awkwardly greeted each other and then I gestured for him to sit on the chair. I sat on the bed, facing him.

"How odd," Jean-Paul said, surveying the room, "this is the first time I've been in your quarters."

"And I have never been inside yours either. On An'zhina or on here."

"Looks just like mine."

I smiled. "Don't you hate that? These rooms are so bland and there's nothing to decorate them with. I've thought of begging Colossus to paint me a picture for this room but I know he spends all this time now painting for Elena. Not that I can blame him. I'm so glad for him that he's found someone." I stopped, looked down at my hands, and then looked back at Jean-Paul. He sat across from me, his expression placid. I didn't see the anger that I knew he felt. "Um, look…Jean-Paul, I just wanted to say again that I am really sorry for what I did. I'm sorry about it and I feel terrible that you are hurt. I hope that maybe someday you can forgive me."

Jean-Paul nodded. "I will try, Bobby," he said, quietly. "I'm still angry but I want to try to make this work. But Bobby….if we go on from here, there can be no misunderstanding. If we're a couple, then we're to be faithful to each other. No more one night stands, no matter what the circumstances are."

"Yes," I said. "Of course."

"I realized I am less angry with you than I would be had we been together longer. We were only just getting to know each other at that point. If that had not been the case I would really be furious. But at that time, our relationship was not….defined. I guess we hadn't ever said we were committed to each other, though I just assumed…." he let his voice trail off.

"I know," I said. "But from now on, then, we don't need to assume. We'll be---I mean if you want, of course---we'll be….sheesh, when I was growing up, they called it `going steady.'" He and I both shared a laugh over that. "What would we call it?"

"There are no good terms for any of this stuff," he said. His tone was light and he looked calm and all. "There are no good names for what we are to each other or what to call our relationship. I always referred to Phillippe as my partner, but I hated that term. I thought it made it sound like we sell real estate together." We laughed together over that too.

"When Michael and I were together," I offered, "we just referred to each other as `my boyfriend.' Of course that term is more appropriate for teenagers and not two men in their thirties."

"Well, whatever we call it," Jean-Paul began, on a serious note again, "At this point, I think we either make a real commitment to each other, to be together or….or we break it off."

"I don't want to break it off."

"Neither do I," he said. Then he paused. "Even though….." he let his voice trail off and looked down.

"Even though what?" I prompted gently.

"Like I say in the letter I sent you. I have lost so many people in my life. I tell you, Bobby, part of me wants to run in the opposite direction from this. Part of me just wants to stay mad at you and forget the whole thing."

"I understand that feeling. And I don't think I can ever fully understand all the losses you have been through. For me, almost all of the people who made a major impact on my life are on board this ship. Or on An'zhina. My whole family is here, alive and safe. I am floored at all the losses in your life."

"When you told me about this affair, part of me thought `How great! This is my chance to get out of this and never get hurt again.' But I've thought about it the last few days and that's not what I want," Jean-Paul said.

"I totally understand. But I think we should open ourselves to….to being a couple, to being in love even though there is the possibility we might get hurt. It's better to risk getting hurt again than to close yourself off to love. My therapist and I used to talk about intimacy and how difficult it is to really open yourself up to getting intimate." I had mentioned my years in therapy to Jean-Paul more than once, so it was alright to refer to my therapist. "She said---and I agree----that it's better to risk the pain that can come with love rather than closing yourself off. We're mutants and we lead difficult lives. We have to face the possibility that one of us could die in battle. So we have to realize that….but I still want to be with you, Jean-Paul."

Jean-Paul was quiet for a moment and then began somberly, "During my years in Alpha Flight, I met more than one person who was that way---hurt too many times, closed off to love and to life. A hard shell. It is a miserable way to live and I know I don't want that." He closed his eyes for a second and paused. He then looked straight back at me and my heart nearly melted at the look in his face. "So where do we go from here? I forgive you for what you did, Bobby. Are we ready to commit to each other?"

"I am," I said, meeting his gaze.

"I am too," he said. "I love you, Bobby."

His declaration of love surprised me just a bit, but I didn't even wait a second to return it, "I love you too, Jean-Paul."

He then held out his arms to me. I got up and fell into his arms. The chair he was sitting in, however, wasn't really ample enough for the two of us. So we stood up and faced each other. We wrapped our arms around each other and started kissing.

It started like any of our other kisses, but this time, when I asked for more, Jean-Paul obliged. He returned all of my kisses, more passionately and fervently then ever before. His tongue was touching my tongue as one of his hands stroked the back of my neck. All of my senses were going crazy. His powerful chest pressed against my own and I adored the feel of his shoulders and back as my hands touched them. I gasped when he removed his mouth from mine and started nibbling on one of my earlobes. I thought my heart was beating so loudly that I could hear it. Jean-Paul was always quiet during kissing but I unabashedly let a moan or two out. That seemed to encourage him even more. I tilted my head back and he kissed the hollow of my throat. He then slipped his hands underneath my shirt. I was embarrassed at the perspiration there but I was so excited that my body was going haywire. My legs were shaky.

Jean-Paul broke off the kiss. For a second, my heart sank until I realized that he was taking a glance at the bed and then a very pointed look at me. "Your knees are shaking, amour," he observed. The look in his eyes was one I hadn't quite seen before. I saw naked lust.

"I'm excited," I breathed.

"Me too." He turned his head towards the bed. "Shall we?"

I had to refrain from literally jumping for joy. And for a moment, I didn't know what to do. It had been so long since I made love with someone I felt love for that I nearly panicked. Jean-Paul sat on the bed and then pulled me down towards him. I perched on top of him as he reclined against the bed board, and we resumed kissing. I plunged my tongue into his mouth and then lapped it against his lips. I ran my fingers through his hair, wondering what he would be like and incredulous that I was finally about to find out. Would he go slowly and sensuously or fast and furious? I wondered what his cock would look and feel like. My hands were shaking with anticipation. He noticed, and reached for and kissed them. Jean-Paul then started tugging at my uniform----when the red alert siren went off.

I literally screamed. Jean-Paul and I both immediately stopped what we were doing and looked at each other.

"Everyone report to your stations at once!" Storm's voice boomed over the intercom. Our romantic moment was over, and my feelings in a matter of seconds had gone from love and arousal to base fear.

Chapter 5

Chapter 7 


	7. Chapter 7

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 7

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 7

Storm and Colossus had been on duty on the bridge, diligently watching their monitors. They had seen nothing. The Professor and Psylocke, however, contacted them virtually at the same time to let them know that **their** own unique sensors had picked up on several minds in the vicinity.

"I still see nothing on my screen," Storm said. She had sounded the alarm. The Professor, Psylocke, and Rogue had now joined Storm and Colossus on the bridge. "They must be cloaked." The X-men had not had success in discovering a way to detect cloaked vessels.

"They're very nearby," the Professor said. "Roughly four- or five hundred different minds."

"I think it might be two ships," Psylocke said.

"And they see us. They-----"

Charles was cut off by the sound of a phaser blast. It was a direct hit and Freedom was rocked by the blast. Within the span of a second, several shots hit the starship.

"Return fire," Storm ordered.

Colossus was sitting at the weapons station, his fingers ready to go. "I don't know what coordinates to fire back at."

"Make a guess based on the direction that the phasers are coming from," Storm said as she maneuvered the ship. The X-men had undergone a few test battle scenarios fighting against an invisible foe. Today they would discover whether or not their testing had been adequate.

Colossus fired off phasers as Freedom was steered in a direction that Storm hoped took them away from the attacking vessels. The FOH ships, however, easily kept up with them and fired off more weapons.

"They're doin' some major damage," Rogue said, reading off her monitor. "Our shields are down to 45%, an' we've got hull breaches on deck one and two."

Rogue ordered Angel, Nightcrawler, Iceman, Jubilee, Marrow, and Shaman to get to work on repairing the hull breaches. Hull breach repairs required major work and were difficult to do but necessary to prevent the loss of life support. The X-men had done numerous simulated repairs of the hull, and Rogue hoped they would suffice in the real work.

Rogue then asked Beast for an update on the engines.

From his station in engineering, Beast reported back, "Engines holding steady. None of the blasts have impacted us yet. I do-----"

He was interrupted by the loudest explosion the X-men had heard yet. This time the ship was rocked so hard that those who had been standing were knocked over. The Professor was disposed from his hover chair.

"We've been hit by a photon torpedo!" Rogue said, as soon as she could make her way back to her seat and this time strap herself in. "Deck 3 is hit and it looks bad! And our engines are down."

The Professor sensed that one of the X-men had been injured from that photon blast. He telepathically ordered Panda and Ramon to deck 3 to assist with the injured.

Beast confirmed Rogue's report about the status of the engines. "I will commence engine repairs at once." He ordered several others to assist him.

Storm and Colossus were having no effect. It was just as impossible to steer the ship away from an enemy one could not see as it was impossible to hit that invisible enemy. They fired all the weaponry they could but to no avail. Storm then took a pointed look at the Professor and Psylocke.

The Professor nodded and shut his eyes. Psylocke's eyes were already closed and she appeared to be heavily in concentration.

The phaser and photon blasts suddenly ceased. After a few moments, Storm and Colossus stopped firing away. Storm took a good look at the two telepaths. The Professor looked calm and thoughtful. Betsy's eyes were squeezed shut and she appeared to be shaking slightly.

All of a sudden, the X-men heard a loud explosion. The waves of the blast rocked Freedom. "What was that?" Rogue asked.

"That was not us," Colossus said, looking down at the readings from his console. "I not seeing any new damage to Freedom."

"One of the FOH ships just blew up," the Professor said, turning towards Psylocke and looking directly at her.

"Yes," Betsy breathed, her eyes still closed. She rubbed her temples and her body no longer shook. She then smiled and spoke, her voice taking on an eerie tone. "The Captain gave an order to put the ship on self-destruct. No one questioned it."

The Professor took a deep breath. "We will discuss this later, Psylocke. Cease your telepathic activities for today," he ordered her. Psylocke nodded and quietly exited the bridge.

The X-men still had a second FOH ship to deal with. However, using his mind control abilities, the Professor "convinced" the crew of the ship to turn away and set a course back for earth. The Professor waited for a bit and then announced, "We're out of the woods. I detect no more FOH minds in this area."

The intercom on the bridge crackled. "This is Panda," the voice said. She sounded admirably calm considering the crisis that had just passed. "Northstar was injured in that photon torpedo hit. Ramon and I are transporting him to sick bay. Hank, we need you here as soon as possible."

I didn't hear all of what Panda had said over the intercom. I was too busy rushing to repair the hull, as ordered and various noises from the damaged ship kept me from hearing Northstar's name come up. So I continued heading for the breached area of the ship and meet up with the others who'd been ordered to do repair work. I got to the turbolift and then decided against using it, due to the hull damage. As I made my way for the stairs, Marrow and I literally smashed right into each other.

"Where you going?" she asked. "Sick bay's that way."

"I'm going to work on the hull like Rogue ordered," I said.

"Didn't you hear Panda over the intercom? Your boyfriend was injured."

"What?" The color drained from my face. I reached an arm out to steady myself against the wall.

"Panda said she and Ramon were beaming him to sick bay."

"Northstar is injured?" I repeated. I blinked but kept seeing a brownish haze in front of my eyes.

"Come on," she said, yanking my arm almost off its socket and marching me down the corridor towards sick bay. I'd recovered from the momentary shock enough to make it the rest of the way on my own. I thanked Marrow and then she ran back towards the damaged areas of the hull.

I ran the rest of the way to sick bay. I got there and saw Hank and Panda's bodies blocking any view of Jean-Paul as they tended to him. Hank gave a few orders to Panda and Ramon, asking for this supply or that one. I struggled to get my breathing under control.

"Is he alive?" I asked. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to bother the medics, but I also had to know. If my mind had been more calm, I would have been able to pick up from what they were saying to each other that he wasn't dead.

"Yes," Panda said.

"Stay calm, Bobby," Hank said. As with Panda, Hank didn't turn to look at me but continued to work on Jean-Paul. "He is going to live."

I breathed a sigh of relief. I then kept my mouth shut and stayed off to the side, well out of their way. I don't know how much time passed. But I got an idea that I should let Rogue know where I was, since she had ordered me to be somewhere else.

"Rogue, it's Iceman. I'm in sick bay. Northstar is injured. I'm, uh, sorry I'm not working on repairing the hull breaches right now," I said, amazing myself that I kept my voice from shaking.

"That's okay, sugar. Thanks for lettin' us know." She paused and seemed to hesitate. "Is he okay?"

"He's going to live. That's all I know now."

More time passed. Just as the Professor and Storm arrived to check on Jean-Paul, Hank came up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "He is going to recover," he told me. "We think that part of the ceiling fell on top of him. The material gouged a big part of his back but we have stopped the bleeding. He was hit on the head, which is why he is unconscious. We have been performing numerous tests on him, and at this point I do not think he will suffer any brain damage."

"Oh thank goodness," I breathed. I spotted a chair and slumped into it. I felt all of my senses returning to normal.

"We are very fortunate," the Professor said. "We have no other casualties."

"No sign of the FOH ships?" Panda asked.

"None whatsoever. Part of my mind is continuously scanning the area. If I sense any more, we will go to red alert again."

Storm added, "Rogue just reported to us that the hull breaches are under control. It will be a while before they are fully repaired but the ship is not in any immediate danger of losing life support."

"What about the engines?" I asked.

"Wolverine and Gambit are at work repairing them right now. We do not have an estimate as to when they will be finished. The Professor and I are going to join them now," Storm continued. "as the two of us have more experience with the workings of the engines." During the months we X-men had been stranded on the Paradise planet, the Professor and Storm had been on a team which was assigned to fix the engines. The two of them, along with Cyclops and Beast, had the most knowledge of the workings of the engines. "We wanted to check in on Northstar beforehand. Thank the Goddess his injuries are not worse."

"Who is on bridge duty now?" Panda asked.

"We have Colossus on duty, and we've re-deployed Nightcrawler from his work on repairing the hull," the Professor answered.

The Professor and Storm then turned to leave. "Hey, Storm," I began. "Should I get back to working on hull repair? I wanted to check on Jean-Paul first."

"Whichever you'd like," she answered. "We have four others on that project and the situation isn't dire. And certainly it is important for you to be here with him; I know how much he means to you.."

I smiled. "Thanks for understanding, Storm." I wondered if all the X-men leaders would've been so sympathetic. I love Storm.

"Psylocke, you do realize that what you did was wrong." It was a statement, not a question.

"No. It wasn't wrong at all."

Charles Xavier and Betsy Braddock sat facing each other in one of Freedom's meeting rooms. The conference room featured a long, square table and about a dozen chairs. When Betsy had entered the room, she had taken one of the seats farthest from her teacher. As she made her declaration without remorse, she sat steadily meeting Charles's gaze, her arms folded across her ample chest.

"Please explain to me why you think your action wasn't wrong," he said, keeping his tone as gentle as possible. With a fellow telepath, however, masking emotions was futile and Betsy would have no qualms about taking a reading of his mental state if she felt like doing so. "There were 312 human beings on board that ship and now they are all dead. You used your powers to coerce one of them into setting the ship on auto-destruct."

Betsy was silent for several moments. She continued to look at Charles, her expression as blank as she could keep it. The Professor continued, "We could have won the battle without that. All we had to do was turn their ship away."

Betsy shrugged. "I was in the minds of those men before I killed them. Many had killed mutants in the camps. All of them had raped. Some of them had even raped me." She droned the sentences in an emotionless voice.

"I share your anger and pain over these atrocities. However-----"

"However **what**??" Betsy cut him off. Her voice didn't crack; it remained steady. "They deserve to die. And if you truly felt any anger and pain over what they did, you'd agree."

Charles felt her numbness and how she was not allowing any feelings through. It was heartbreaking to see one of his students like this. "Killing is not justified," the Professor said, slowly and firmly. "Taking their lives doesn't undo any of the torturing or murdering that FOH has committed. It makes it worse. It brings us to their level."

"I disagree. And I don't want to hear any more of this." Psylocke abruptly stood up. "Are you kicking me out of the X-men, then?" she asked, her tone sounding as if she dared him too.

"No. But I am going to suspend you from serving on our missions. You will not take part in the next rescue mission."

"Very well then." Psylocke spun around and left the room.

"Betsy!" Charles called after her, but she left. However, with a telepath, there is no `slamming the door.' He continued to speak into her thoughts. 'But Betsy, please consider working with me again. You need help. I can help you.'

Psylocke threw up a psychic 'shield' to prevent any more of Charles's thoughts from getting through.

I stayed with Northstar as often as possible. Since his condition was stabilized, I guess I didn't really need to be in sick bay at all hours but I wanted to be there with him. Hank had arranged him so that he lay on his stomach, a massive bandage on his back over the wound. It looked as if Jean-Paul were sleeping and not unconscious. Ramon remained in sick bay with me the entire time, always checking the monitors that watched over Jean-Paul.

"He'll be just fine," Ramon would say periodically.

I nodded. Hank had suggested that if Jean-Paul did not regain consciousness on his own within 24-48 hours, we could ask Shaman to intervene. His healing powers would certainly help.

I looked at the time. Twenty-five minutes until my bridge duty shift. I knew I wasn't really doing Jean-Paul any good….but I didn't want to leave his side either. As if on cue, the doors to sick bay slide aside and Wolverine entered. He walked up to the bed Northstar was on.

"How's he doin'?" Wolverine asked.

"The same," I replied.

Wolverine then made an offer that floored me. "You want me to take your bridge duty shift?"

I was surprised, to say the least. Trying to regain my composure, I replied. "Sure. Thank you. I'd really appreciate the chance to get to stay here with him. I owe you one."

"Don't mention it," he said as he left the infirmary.

Jubilee and Rory later entered sick bay, bringing me dinner and keeping me company.

"You could take a break," she was saying. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"I want to stay here," I said. I'd been holding Jean-Paul's hand but had to set it down to eat my dinner. No sooner had I taken the first bite when Rory crawled up to me and reached out her hand. Obligingly, I picked her up and sat her on my lap.

"You're not like all worried, are you?"

I smiled at Jubilee for her concern. "I'm fine. I'm thankful it wasn't worse and no one else was hurt. But I just want to be with him." I looked around sick bay. Ramon was still there, but on the other side of the room, tapping away on the computer at something. I leaned closer to Jubilee and began quietly, "When the red alert siren went off, Jean-Paul and I were about to….go to bed together."

"Really?" she asked, her eyes wide.

Suddenly, I regretted letting her know that. Jubilee and I had been—since the day I re-joined the Xmen---extremely close and we shared a lot with each other. But I also knew that some straight people were cool with you being gay……**until** you had a lover or had tangible evidence of a sex life. For a second, I feared that Jubilee would have an adverse reaction to hearing the news.

But she showed me that my worries were groundless. "That is so great!" she said. "So you two made up? Tell me everything!"

I filled her in, letting her know that I'd written Jean-Paul a letter, and that he'd replied. "So we met back at my place and we had a really good discussion. We talked about relationships and intimacy. It was fantastic. We agreed that we were committed to each other and that we wanted to make the relationship work."

"That's wonderful! I'm so glad you're back together" she enthused. "So…..will ya tell me more about what you two were doing when the alarm went off?" she asked, smiling.

I returned her smile. "Well, we started kissing. We'd actually gotten to the bed. But when the alert went off, we hadn't taken off any clothes yet."

"Man, don't you just hate FOH even more now??" she joked. We laughed together. Maybe I should've been more upset or more worried, but mostly I was just glad that Jean-Paul was alive and poised to recover soon. Jubilee made me promise to tell her when Jean-Paul and I did get to make love, and I couldn't refuse.

"So how are you feeling?" I asked Jubilee, once our laughter had died down. "She is such a handful," I said, referring to Rory.

"She's getting tired. It's been a long day. She was too keyed up to eat much dinner."

"She knows something's up, huh?" I asked.

"Yeah. The red alert sound scares her. Elena did a great job keeping her calm and watching over her during the battle, but Rory was still wound up." Jubilee looked down at her daughter, who had walked back over toward her. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing the right thing bringing her." She sighed. "We X-men face danger all the time, and I've been living like this since I was 15. It's normal for me, but maybe it shouldn't be for her. I wonder if next mission I should stay on An'zhina with her."

"I gotta imagine it's a hard decision for you. I mean, you're an X-man. You belong with us. But I know you want to watch out for Rory too."

"I know. Maybe I'll reconsider coming along on every mission. I dunno yet. We'll see."

Jubilee kept me company for a while longer as I picked at my dinner. She kissed me before she went to bed that evening.

The Professor and Storm sat together in one of the conference rooms, reviewing the battle. "The team fought well," the Professor said. "We tended to our injured quickly, the group working on the hull breach got the situation under control quickly, and the engines were repaired fast too. Rogue also performed well on the bridge, checking the status of the ship and ordering people where the need was greatest. Overall I'm pleased with how we performed. What do you think?"

"I agree mostly. I am somewhat disappointed in myself though," Storm admitted. "I was unable to out-maneuver the FOH ships."

"Battling against an invisible enemy is always extremely difficult. I thought you and Colossus did about as well as can be expected under such a circumstance."

"But we failed to damage the FOH at all. If it had not been for you and Psylocke….."

The Professor nodded. "We have one starship. We do not know how big of a fleet FOH has now, and now that they can detect our cloak, our challenge is even harder."

"How is Psylocke?"

"Not well. I suspended her from active duty with the X-men. She still is refusing all offers of help from me." Charles paused and placed his hands together. "Betsy was never the easiest student to work with, but her mental condition has deteriorated since her torture at the hands of FOH." The Professor went on to relay much of the conversation he and Psylocke had earlier that day. "What do you think, Storm?" he then asked. "Psylocke made an accusation that troubles me. She said I did not understand the anger and pain she'd been through." Charles paused "Do you think that I am not being sympathetic enough?"

"Not at all, Professor. In fact, I do not think we could have a more empathic leader. And I know that in working with all those who have survived FOH, you truly do understand the trauma they've been through."

The Professor nodded, satisfied with Storm's answer. It was very late into a long day, and the two soon ended their meeting. As the Professor's hover chair took him to his quarters, he thought of ways to convince Psylocke to work with him again. Her precarious emotional state needed assistance.

The Professor prepared for bed and eventually fell asleep. However, his mind was never fully rested. A portion of it continually scanned for the presence of minds other than those on board Freedom. After what happened today, he could never fully let his guard down. Several times during the night, Charles woke. Yet all was quiet in space and the only minds he detected were those of his X-men. As always, a variety of emotions were coursing through their psyches.

Just under 48 hours after the FOH attack, Jean-Paul regained consciousness. He did so on his own; without the aid of Shaman. Shaman shared with us his philosophy that if someone could recover on their own, it was always better for them to do so, rather than for Shaman to intervene.

Jean-Paul was groggy and out of it for a while after he woke. He remained in sick bay, and I stayed with him. Mostly I just sat there and held his hand. He would smile at me, apologize for feeling so weak, and go back to sleep. Every once in a while, he'd kiss my hand or he'd be strong enough to talk for a bit. He didn't yet feel well enough to leave the infirmary though.

I went back to serving on bridge duty like everyone else. Our ship was on a standing yellow alert, which is a fancy way of saying we were advised to be on our toes at all times and our weaponry was always on-line. Every time you showered or sat down to eat, part of you had to be ready to jump up at any time. We even ate in shifts----this time sans the conversation and laughter we usually took our meals with. Everyone was a bit on edge.

Overall, I wouldn't say that we're a particularly gossipy group, but talk of what Psylocke did circulated quite a bit. A few were stunned that she blew up that FOH ship. None of us, however, were really mourning the loss of their lives. Me, I don't think I'd **choose** to end the lives of 300 FOH members, but I don't really think I'd stop someone else from doing so either. I knew I ran the risk of sounding like Marrow----who was quite enthused over Psylocke's act----but it's hard to get upset at the death of murderers and rapists. We did, however, worry that FOH might retaliate against mutants back on earth. But on the other hand, it was hard to image life for mutants on earth getting much worse.

The fact that Psylocke was suspended from the X-men was discussed a bit too. However, any time Angel entered the room the discussions halted. Poor guy.

It was now two full days after our skirmish with FOH and we were approximately five days away from earth. I was in sick bay with Jean-Paul but my bridge duty shift was scheduled in a few minutes. I glanced at the time.

Jean-Paul saw me making the gesture. "Time for you to go, eh?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I wish I didn't have to leave your side."

"I'll be alright," he said. He was sitting up in bed and generally doing well. Hank told him that if his condition continued improving like this, he'd be cleared to leave the infirmary the following day. "Silver Moon and Jubilee promised to stop by and play cards with me later on. I'm feeling up to it, too."

I nodded and got to my feet. Jean-Paul reached for my hand. "You know, mon coeur….I might have been hit on the head but I remember full well what we'd been doing when FOH attacked." He looked at me with a sparkle in his eyes. My heart melted.

"I'm glad you remember."

"You don't know how hard I'm trying to get better so I can leave sick bay."

I bent down and kissed his forehead. "I love you, Jean-Paul."

"I love you too, Bobby."

I made my way to the bridge and sat down next to Gambit, who was scheduled on the shift with me. Our first hour was uneventful.

Suddenly, a few things happened at once. We received a signal that another starship was sending us a message! At the same time, the Professor quickly entered the bridge. Instantly, based on the look on his face, we set the ship on red alert. In the blink of an eye, Hank entered the bridge to assist us as the Professor said, "FOH vessels nearby."

The message being sent by the other ship came through in both audio and video. The audio said, "X-men---we will begin executing mutants from our Containment Centers in 30 seconds if you do not immediately reverse course and leave our space."

The video portion of the message flickered on our main screen. The screen displayed a handful of mutants with collars around their necks and handcuffs on. They were surrounded by FOH soldiers, each of whom had a gun to a mutant's head.

The audio message repeated, "X-men---we will begin executing mutants from our Containment Centers in 29 seconds if you do not immediately reverse course and leave our air space."

Gambit, Hank and I looked at the Professor. His eyes were shut in concentration. "I am unable to reach the minds of those FOH soldiers. I can't reach Thompson or any of their other leaders to change their minds. It is as if my powers are somehow being blocked."

The ominous FOH voice invaded us again. "Change course immediately. We will execute one mutant every second until you steer your ship away from earth…..20 seconds remaining."

"What do we do?" I asked.

The Professor shook his head. "I cannot get through. I can't establish a connection with any decision-makers in FOH on earth. There is another force at work."

"15 seconds, X-men. Don't give us reason to kill any of these disgusting mutants here. We have 250 muties at this camp and will kill each and every last one of them if you do not warp away from earth and stay the hell away! 8 seconds remaining!"

The Professor turned towards me. "Bobby. Reverse course immediately. Warp 5."

I did as told. I pressed a few buttons and the ship did an about face. We set a course back for An'zhina and warped away from earth.

Back on earth, the FOH soldier Mark felt mixed emotions. His fellow soldiers all cheered as they received word that the X-men had "tucked tail and ran" back for the mists where their new base was. Mark had been one of the soldiers chosen to hold a gun to a mutant's head for the communication sent to the X-men demanding that they turn back. He was relieved that he didn't have to kill the mutant.

At the same time, he was severely depressed. `The X-men are the only ones with any hope of ending this madness,' he thought to himself. `And now they're gone.'

The X-men sat around the circular table of the main meeting room. Iceman and Gambit remained on the bridge and Northstar in sick bay, listening in via communicators. All the other X-men were present. Psylocke sat around the table, though suspended from active duty, she wanted to at least listen in.

"FOH sent us these coordinates," Beast was saying. He showed the coordinates to the others on a screen. "If we `cross this line', so to speak, they have informed us that they will begin executing mutants."

"They ain't ones for bluffing," Rogue said glumly.

"Indeed, I was convinced that they would carry out their threat," the Professor said. "But I was unable to reach the minds of any FOH leaders or of the individual soldiers who held the guns to the mutants' heads."

"Do you know why?" Storm asked. "Could it be because we were still several days from earth? After all, we were roughly five days away. Was the distance too great?"

"The distance might have been a factor, but I do not believe it was the main one. Fleetingly I sensed another mind at work." He paused, "Perhaps FOH has another telepath working for them."

"Gotta be one powerful telepath to give you trouble," Wolverine said.

The Professor nodded. "There are many unanswered questions."

"So where do we go from here?" Storm asked the group. "We are currently on a course back to An'zhina."

"The unfortunate fact is that we have lost our element of surprise," Beast said. "Our previous missions culminated in the rescue of mutants due to the fact that FOH did not know we were near earth until we de-cloaked above camps and began transporting mutants aboard. We have lost that advantage. FOH can now detect our cloak. And perhaps they now have one or more telepaths working for them as well."

"Beast, resume your work on a way to strengthen our cloak. Try to figure out why they can detect it and a way to reinforce the cloak," Storm ordered.

"I have spent several hours attempting such. I will, however, redouble my efforts." He paused. "A word of caution. This is extremely….complex research. It is quite out of my field. The work I have done has been like taking the proverbial shot in the dark, and none of the early results have been at all encouraging. I will certainly do the best that I can, but if I had to make an educated guess, I would estimate this project could take months. I doubt I will have anything preliminary for three to four months, at a minimum."

Several looks were exchanged around the table. Three or four months?

"But even if we get a better cloak somehow," Rogue began, "if FOH got telepaths workin' for them, they'll still know when we're near earth."

"Maybe not," Wolverine said. "We don't know for a fact they got telepaths on their side. If they do, the telepaths probably don't wanna be workin' for the bastards. If FOH can't detect our cloak, maybe the telepaths won't let `em know that we're here."

"I wish I could find out more," the Professor said, shaking his head. "But unless we can get closer to earth, I cannot."

"I wonder if Queen Marina might help us with a cloak," Rogue said. "She did lend us the Valiant. And look at how she repaired Northstar's arm."

The Professor and Storm exchanged a glance. "We can certainly ask when we return," Storm said quietly.

The X-men discussed the situation for a while longer. They agreed to continue back towards An'zhina. At this point, they could not get near earth without jeopardizing the lives of those they came to save. And if Beast's projections indicated a minimum of three months before they might posses a better cloak, it did not make sense to remain in space. An'zhina would be just over four weeks away.

Meanwhile, back on An'zhina, a mutant by the name of Lu was ill. Lu had been rescued by the X-men from the FOH camp in Beijing. She spoke little English and had kept mostly to herself and a small circle of other camp survivors from China since the rescue. Despite repeated overtures from Hank and Panda, she had refused any medical treatment----until her situation became too dire to ignore. With the help of Yunfei's translating, she went to see Moira MacTaggert. Moira ran several tests on Lu and presented the young woman with the devastating news.

"I canna believe it," Moira said the next day, as she took her breakfast with Banshee, Cyclops, Jean and Siryn. "The poor woman has AIDS." Moira shook her head and tried to sip some of her tea.

"How's she taking it?" Siryn asked quietly.

"About like you'd expect. She's devastated, the poor thing. Yunfei did all the translating but Lu was so choked up that she could barely speak. She did keep insisting that it was not her fault and that she got it from the FOH camps."

Siryn looked down at her plate. She remembered the camps all too well. The soldiers were supposed to use condoms but they didn't every time; some of them would hit you if you asked. Siryn knew she was fortunate. She'd had a full exam and was given a clean bill of health.

"What stage of the disease is she in?" Jean asked.

"It's gone beyond HIV infection to full blown AIDS. I canna say how long she has to live, but I'd be surprised if it's more than a few months," Moira said. "She's wasting away. She now weighs only 90 lbs and she's 5'3" tall."

"Do you think Shaman could do anything to help?" Cyclops asked.

"I don't think his powers are that strong," Banshee said. "Jeanne-Marie told me of the time Northstar adopted a baby girl who had HIV. They took her to Shaman but that powerful disease was beyond him."

"Of course we can try when they return from their mission," Moira said. "They should be reaching earth in about a week's time. Which would mean they're roughly six weeks away from returning here."

"Maybe Queen Marina can help," Siryn suggested.

Scott and Jean looked at each other and were silent.

Siryn continued, "Should we at least ask?"

An awkward pause before Scott replied, "We'll ask her," he said, looking at Jean. "But I am not optimistic that she'll agree. Also, we will need to work with Lu about communicating this to the others on An'zhina. With her consent, of course. If she would like us to keep it a secret, we can and will. But should word get out, we should find a way to communicate this to others so that people don't treat Lu as if….she has the plague."

"That's right," Moira said. "We don't want people afraid to come near her or afraid to touch her. Perhaps at some point we'll need to do some education in HIV and how it's spread. People need to know that they won't get it from casual contact."

"But first and foremost, we should not say or communicate anything unless Lu agrees to it," Jean said. "If she wants to keep this a secret, that is what we must do."

The group agreed, though they knew once Lu reached the final stages of her disease, it would not be possible to keep the situation completely under wraps. Moira soon returned to the infirmary. She decided to begin her own research on a cure. She was grasping at straws, she knew; this was far from her area of expertise. But it was worth a try for Lu's life.

On board Freedom, several X-men were assembled in the mess hall, eating their lunch. It was the day after they had decided to return towards An'zhina. Nightcrawler and Marrow were having a spirited discussion at one end of the table; Bobby, Panda, and Hank were laughing hysterically over something a few seats away; and Rogue and Gambit were playfully teasing each other.

Jubilee sat on one end of the table, spooning food into Aurora's mouth. Storm and Wolverine sat near her.

"It is not the end of the world, Logan," Storm was saying. "We will find another way to get to earth and free more mutants."

"This mission was a disaster. No other way to look at it," Wolverine said.

"At least we turned away before FOH killed any mutants," Jubilee offered.

"We lost!" Wolverine said, smacking a fist against the table. "We were forced to run away. All we have to show for 2 years of traipsing around the galaxy is the rescue of 200 mutants. A damn drop in the bucket. How many more are back on earth!"

Storm placed a hand on his shoulder. "Relax, Logan. We'll find a way to strengthen our cloak so they can no longer detect us. All we need then is a way to get close enough to earth so that the Professor can change the minds of FOH leadership." She paused. "Try to be patient. This won't be easy but we need to move slowly and cautiously. I know that is not the way you prefer to operate. But rushing in right now would accomplish nothing other than the deaths of the very people we want to save."

Wolverine shook his head and resumed eating. Storm took it as a sign that he wasn't too miserable since he didn't walk out of the room and go beat a punching bag in the gym.

Angel entered the mess hall and approached their end of the table with his tray in hand. "Is this seat taken?" he asked, gesturing to the seat across from Jubilee and next to Wolverine.

"It's all yours," Jubilee said.

Angel set his food down and began to eat but seemed quite enchanted with Aurora. "She is such a cute baby," he said, admiringly. He smiled at Rory and she smiled back, loving the attention.

"Thank you,' Jubilee said.  
  
"And she's so well-behaved." Angel then made idle conversation with Jubilee, asking her a bit about the baby and how she was progressing.

"She is a mutant, right?" he asked at one point.

"Yes," Jubilee said. "We had her tested when she was very young and she has the gene. But we don't know what her mutation will be yet."

"I wonder if it will be the same as yours or something entirely different," Angel mused.

"I wonder that too. But we might not know until she's a pre-teen."

The conversation then drifted, and Angel asked Jubilee a lot about the karate training that she was doing under Wolverine's tutelage. They spoke about that for a while, with Storm and Wolverine mostly listening to the conversation between the two.

After some time had passed, Jubilee said, "Well, I'd better put her down for her nap. Rory gets cranky around this time."

"I've enjoyed talking with you, Jubilee," Angel said. His tone changed. "Do you enjoy swimming?"

"Sure I do," she replied

"Would you like to swim together? Perhaps some time this afternoon?"  
  
"Sure. I got bridge duty on fifth shift today, but I'll be done before dinner. Elena and Colossus promised to do some babysitting for me."

"I'll stop by the bridge at the end of your shift then."

"Great. I'm looking forward to it."

Jubilee then escorted her daughter to their room, and Angel soon left the mess hall. Storm and Wolverine looked at each other.

"Logan," Storm said, a slight warning in her tone as she saw the displeased look on his face.

"What's he want?" Wolverine muttered. "An' it better not be what I'm thinkin'."

Just then, Bobby swung by their end of the table. "So what's up, you guys?" he breezily asked. "And what was the deal with Angel talking to Jubilee and making eyes at her? I saw him laying on the charm from over there."

"Bobby, I think our Jubilee has a date," Storm said.

"And I think Angel and Jubilee ain't gonna be the only ones at the pool before dinner," Wolverine said.

"Logan," Storm said.

"How old is he?" Logan demanded.

"Angel?" Bobby asked. "Let me see….he's one of the original X-men. I'm the youngest of the original five and I'm 32. I'd guess Warren's about 35 or 36 by now."

"He's too old for her," Wolverine grumbled.

"Logan," Storm said. "He just asked her to go **swimming.**"

"You said it yourself it was a date."

"Oh, Logan, who really knows? Maybe he just wants to get to know her better."

"Come on, `Ro. This means disaster and you know it."

"Ever the optimist," Bobby muttered.

"What was that?" Logan asked.

"Nothing, nothing," Bobby answered, smiling.

Jean-Paul walked back and forth in sick bay. "I tell you two---I am fine. I'm ready to go," he was saying. "I've been in here for three days and I'm ready to go."

Both Hank and Shaman looked at him and at their tricorders. I stood next to them, glancing at the readings.

"My tricorder readings indeed substantiate your claim," Hank said. "I officially give you permission to leave sick bay."

"Please call me if you need anything," Shaman said.

"Feel free to contact me, as well," Hank said.

Jean-Paul smiled. "Thank you both for your care." He then turned to me and extended his hand. "Shall we go, amour?"

I smiled and took his hand. We turned and took our leave of Hank and Shaman.

"You really feel fine?" I asked, as we walked down the hall. Jean-Paul was kind of leading and I was basically following him. "I feel great!" he told me, sounding rather enthusiastic. We continued to walk down the hall and I made small talk. I told him a bit about the conversation between Jubilee and Angel and the subsequent speculation of Storm and Wolverine earlier that day. I also told him about the really big argument that Marrow and Nightcrawler had engaged in at lunch. He occasionally responded with a nod or an "uh-huh" but he seemed preoccupied.

Jean-Paul and I continued walking until I realized we were outside of my room. He tilted his head towards the door and raised his eyebrows. I nodded, and we stepped through the doorway.

All of a sudden, Jean-Paul grabbed me, backed me against a wall and started kissing me. His lips grasped my tongue and sucked on it. My heart started pounding---at first from shock and then excitement.

"Do you want to?" he asked me, breaking the kiss off.

"God, yes!" I responded breathlessly.

His lips descended on mine again, somehow both aggressively and tenderly at the same time. His roving tongue entered my mouth again. Delicious. Suddenly both of his hands were under my shirt, fingers were running along my back. I got goose bumps. Jean-Paul then brought a hand front and brushed his fingers against my nipples. "You like this?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "You can give a little squeeze….gently." He did so. I sighed with pleasure.

Next thing I knew, Jean-Paul was guiding me back towards the bed and undressing me. I was basically in heaven. "You have such a beautiful blush on your skin, mon ami," he murmured, looking at my chest. He discarded the top part of my uniform and then pulled my trousers down. I stepped out of them and of my shoes and socks.

I looked into his eyes. "I love you, Jean-Paul," I said. His eyes were soft but intense, looking back at me with love and desire.

"I love you too, Bobby." He took his gaze away from my face and bet his head to slowly lick one of my nipples. "And tonight we show each other how much, eh?" I kissed the top of his head. He then kissed my lips again, and then brought his mouth around and nibbled on my shoulders. I squealed. It felt so good.

I was content to let Jean-Paul take the lead but I had to see and appreciate his body. What I'd seen of it to this point was magnificent and I had to see it all and take it all in. So once he had stripped me down to my briefs, I knelt in front of him. "I want to see you," I said.

He smiled. "I like that you tell me what you want." He slowly removed his clothes for me. He did it with a bit of flair. I just sat there, drinking in the sight of him. His legs were muscular and thick and so well defined. Like something you'd see in a magazine. I ran my fingers up and down them, feeling the hot flesh over the defined muscles. I then tilted my head upwards. I had seen his chest before but it looked exceptionally gorgeous that evening. My eyes traveled back towards his cock. It wasn't hard all the way yet but it was wonderful already. "You're like a Greek god," I said. He smiled.

From that point onwards, we didn't make any pretense at going slowly. I stripped my briefs off and we got on the bed. He got atop me and kissed me with more passion than I could remember ever experiencing, his tongue darting in and around my mouth. I loved the feel of his weight on top of me. I think my hands were shaking again and the rest of the room might even have been spinning. It had been so, so long. But it had also never happened before because I hadn't ever been with a man I wanted this much and one who I loved this much. My heart throbbed with love just as another body part throbbed too.

Jean-Paul was kissing my shoulders and chest, and one of his hands was slowly progressing lower. His hand grasped me and slowly started to pump. "Jean-Paul," I breathed. "Let me. Please. I want so much to taste you now."

"Whatever you desire, my love," he said, smiling.

So he relinquished his grip and rolled onto his back. I gave a few quick kisses to his muscular thighs and taut abdomen. I picked up traces of his sweat on my lips. But soon I got my lips around his cock----I could wait no longer to experience it. He was perfect. All I remember is that he was big and lovely and nice and thick. I had a problem though. I don't know if it was because I was so nervous or so excited but my mouth was too dry. I couldn't get enough wetness in my mouth to do the job. I was mortified. That had never happened before.

Jean-Paul and I had a good natured laugh over my problem. I got up and drank some water from the water bottle I kept in my room and that helped. I got back to work and this time, I could do it.

So I loved him with my mouth while stroking myself with one hand. He liked what I was doing; I could tell from the sounds he was making as I licked around and around the head of his cock. I'd settled into a rhythm and I wasn't so nervous any more. I loved how sensual it felt with him moving inside my mouth, hearing his breathing and panting increase. He was mostly quiet but he did whisper, "You're sooooo good at this, Bobby." And I was delighted that I hadn't lost my touch. I've always been good at this and I easily had every inch of his fat cock inside my mouth. I used one hand as an extension of my mouth and just pumped up and down. His taste was delectable. "I'm cuming," he whispered. I kept my mouth on him as he climaxed, and I followed just a moment behind. His cum was milky and salty and copious. I swallowed most of it, but some ran down my chin. I dabbed at a few drops and spread them on one of my nipples.

"Mon coeur," he smiled, sitting up, "you didn't let me have a turn. You're all finished," he observed. Drops of my cum were dripping off one of my hands and thighs. He reached for the drops on my thigh and gently rubbed them into my skin.

I smiled sheepishly. "I couldn't wait."

I rested my head on his chest and he stroked my hair. "Maybe we rest a little and have round two?" he asked.

So we rested for a bit, just chattering and leisurely stroking each other's bodies, occasionally kissing. I ran my fingers through his hair which was dampened with sweat. I touched his arms and shoulders, telling him how incredible they looked. So powerful and well sculpted. He was a magnificent work of beauty.

I can't even describe how I felt---just really satisfied, really loved. I've always liked this part of lovemaking a lot. I could have stayed there forever, chattering with him and exchanging words of love. But I think Jean-Paul was a bit more eager to get back to what we'd been doing. After a bit, he turned me onto my stomach and started giving me a back rub but then changed it to giving licks all up and down my back. I yelped in surprise. It felt incredible. All too briefly Jean-Paul grabbed my bottom and squeezed it gently. He then murmured in French to me as he shifted upwards and kissed the back of my neck. His tongue tickled one of my earlobes.

Jean-Paul then returned me to my back. He traced his tongue around and around one of my nipples. He lifted his head then and began to use his hands to stroke me. I was hard again in no time. "Beautiful," he said, looking at how swollen I was. Then he dipped his head down and rubbed his smooth cheek against my cock. He put his mouth on me and I started to moan loudly and uncontrollably.

Jean-Paul next did something surprising. He swung his body around so that he was on his belly, kinda at a 90 degree angle from me. He put his mouth back on me. His lips and tongue felt so good on me but I think the view was even better. I craned my neck and shoulders up and to the side so I could feast my eyes on his perfect rear.

"You like the view, eh?" he asked, taking his mouth off my cock for a second.

"I'm in heaven," I murmured.

"I noticed you checking it out before. I thought I'd give you a little treat."

I reached around to caress and fondle his soft bottom. I let his mouth continue with its work and I think I came in record time. When I was done, we changed positions and I put my mouth back on him. It was even more wonderful the second time around. The bed sheets were soon soaked with our cum and our perspiration.

Afterwards, Jean-Paul got out of bed. I assumed he was heading for the washroom and I was right. When he left the small bathroom, instead of returning to the bed though, he picked up his clothing from the floor and started dressing.

I sat up. "Where are you going?" I tried to keep the alarm out of my voice but perhaps wasn't successful.

"Back to my room," he said simply.

"But….don't you want to stay here?"

Jean-Paul just smiled and walked closer to the side of the bed. He planted a kiss on my forehead. "I just want to sleep in my own bed. See you tomorrow, amour."

I didn't know what to say. I lay in the bed and watched him leave the room.

I called Jubilee on her communicator. "Hi, Bobby," she said. "What's up?"

"Guess what? Jean-Paul and I did it!"

"Oh really? That's great!" I then heard her turn from the communications device and say to someone else, "It's Bobby. He and Northstar finally got it on!"

"Jubilee, uh….who are you telling?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm in the rec room with Aurora, Storm, Wolvie and the Professor…..They're happy for you."

I tried to laugh instead of feeling completely mortified. I couldn't believe she told them!

Chapter 6

Chapter 8 


	8. Chapter 8

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 8

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 8

Back on An'zhina, Moira was bent over a microscope inside the infirmary's lab. She was wishing that she'd spent more years learning about viruses. Working to discover a cure to AIDS, Moira was taking shots in the dark. She knew in her heart that she hadn't a prayer of finding a cure before Lu died of the disease.

Moira shook her head, remembering what Cyclops and Jean had told her the day after they'd met to discuss Lu's condition. Cyclops had said that they asked Queen Marina for help with this and that the Queen had refused. Moira had asked the couple if Marina had given any explanation for her refusal to help. "She didn't say a thing," Jean had said. "She just flatly refused to help at all and told us not to ask her again."

Having been the parent of a teenager, and a troubled teen at that, Moira had a good sense of when she was being lied to. She was incredulous at the thought that Scott and Jean were not being completely honest though. `Perhaps they have their reasons,' she told herself. 'Or maybe my instincts here are wrong.'

"How's it going?"

Moira started to hear Jean's voice behind her. She turned and smiled when she saw that Jean carried a cup of tea. "For me?" Moira asked.

"Of course."

Moira gratefully took the beverage. "You look like you could use a rest," Jean said. "And it is late." Jean understood that she wasn't going to receive an answer to her question about the progress of Moira's research. She knew that Lu's situation was as close to hopeless as could be.

"I thank you for your concern, Jean," Moira said. "I was planning on going to bed soon anyway." She looked around. "Is your little girl in bed already?"

Jean nodded. "Scott's putting her to sleep now."

"How is this one doing?" Moira asked, taking a look at Jean's prominent abdomen.

Jean smiled. "He's active as usual. And---I don't know if it's him or me, but I feel like this baby wants to be born soon. I feel like I've been pregnant forever. And I think he wants to get out into the sunlight. I swear I don't remember Charlotte doing this much kicking."

"You've still got almost six weeks to go, right?"

"Yes. Though sometimes I feel my back isn't going to make it that long! But I'm alright."

Jean replicated herself a glass of water, and the two women sat down to talk for a bit. There was so much to do on An'zhina----overseeing the monument's construction, counseling and teaching mutants----that Jean and Moira rarely had a quiet moment together. Wishing to avoid the depressing topic of AIDS, they instead spoke about childbirth. Moira could now discuss her deceased son without feeling the wrenching pain that she used to. Everyone had lost so much, somehow dealing with other people's pain lessened her own.

"I hope the other X-men are doing well," Jean said after a while. "I dislike it when they're so far out that I can't reach them telepathically."

"I'm sure they've found a way to compensate for their lack of a cloaking device," Moira said. Those living on An'zhina knew of the battle that had taken place outside of Endaria due to Jean's telepathic abilities. They knew that FOH had behaved as though Freedom had no cloak, and that Charles had used his powers to keep them at bay.

"The Professor's powers will ensure that everything goes smoothly," Jean said, more as a hope than as something she truly believed.

"Yes," Moira said. Her eyes looked out towards the window, into the dim evening sky. "He is such an amazing man."

"Sometimes I wish he would give himself a rest," Jean said. "He has been working so hard for so long."

"He loves to work, Jean. I canna see him ever enjoying sitting around and taking a break. It is not in his blood to be idle."

"I know. But even he has his limits. And he's not getting any younger," Jean added. She'd known him for roughly two decades. He was in better shape than most people his age.

Moira was silent for a bit. She then opened her mouth. "Jean, do you think it's possible to be in love with two men at once?"

Jean was not surprised that Moira asked the question. Ever since their conversation had made its way to the topic of Charles Xavier, she had sensed Moira's strong feelings for her former fiance. And Jean knew Moira had to be hinting at Jean's own feelings for Wolverine. "I think so. Our emotions sometimes go in directions that our brains wouldn't approve of. We can't help our feelings." She noticed Moira looking intently at her, nodding. Jean didn't mind opening up to this kind woman who had been---and was----something of an Aunt to her and the X-men. She continued, "I once was very confused because I did have feelings for Wolverine. But I knew that I would never betray the love that Scott and I had. I made the right decision. My feelings for Wolverine have waned in the last few years, too. I still love him and there is still a bit of an attraction there. But it is nothing compared to what Scott and I have."

"Were you always this certain?"

"No….not quite. But I never seriously considered leaving Scott for Logan."

"And I have never seriously considered leaving Sean," Moira said, her eyes downcast. "But how can I be having feelings for them both?"

"Life never is a fairytale, is it? But you know what's right and what you must do."

Moira smiled. "And I know what I must **not** do too."

Rogue and Gambit were at work on wedding preparations. They had shared with the others, during a meal, that their intention was to have the wedding ceremony upon their return to An'zhina. Everyone knew that they were engaged but the actual date of the ceremony had not been solidified until they made this announcement, and many were cheered that the wedding would be soon. The mood on board Freedom was considerably brightened, coming off the X-men's disappointing mission to earth.

"Dere is so much to do chere," Gambit remarked. He sat next to Rogue in one of the ship's conference rooms.

"I know. I almost wish Jean and Scott were here. They been through this weddin' stuff before. I wonder if anyone here has ever planned a---" Rogue's voice broke off. She had been about to speculate who---if anyone---on board the starship had ever been married. But then she recalled that Gambit had once been married.

Gambit had a guess as to where her thoughts had gone. He knew that she didn't like to hear or think about the many women in his past. Sometimes it seemed no matter how many times he reassured her that he was here for her now, she still got jealous when she thought of the other women from years ago. Regardless, Remy had been very young when he'd been married and he had not been allowed to take part in any of the preparations. "Shaman and Silver Moon are married," Gambit offered.

"Yeah, I remember them tellin' us 'bout their weddin' at dinner once," Rogue said. The ceremony had followed their Native traditions closely.

Rogue and Gambit then settled down to planning their ceremony, deciding to create it in the way they wanted. The fact that they resided on a moon so far from earth made their options seemed limitless. They could keep whichever traditions they wanted, and jettison those they did not. One major area was taken care of for them: replicators on An'zhina could produce basically whatever supplies or decorations were needed. Queen Marina had never given the X-men guidelines on the use of replicators before; they were pretty much allowed to order as much as they needed within reason. Planning the decorations would be much easier because of that.

Part of Gambit, though, wished they were back on earth. He could have used his considerable fortune to make the event a lavish production, with the finest of posh decorations. The replicators would provide whatever they needed but somehow it wasn't quite the same thing. He briefly mused that Angel had once expressed a similar sort of disappointment to him. Both men had been very wealthy. They now spent their lives in a place where money was obsolete and unused. They had everything they needed and knew to be very grateful for it, but there was a bit of a sense of loss too.

"So let's talk about the fun stuff," Rogue was saying. "Bridesmaids. I want Storm, of course. In fact, I think she should be my maid of honor. And I'd like Jean and Jubilee to be the other bridesmaids."

"Chere," Gambit began, "I was t'inking of asking Storm to be my best man."

"Really?"  
  
"She's one of Gambit's best friends. Aside from you, she **is** my best friend. I actually been t'inking 'bout dis for a while."

"Can she do both? Be my maid of honor and your best man."  
  
"The woman's a marvel. She can do anyt'ing."

"Then let's ask her to!"

Rogue briefly considered asking others to join Storm, Jean and Jubilee as bridesmaids---but decided against it. Those three were the women she was closest to and it made the most sense that only those she had known for years and bonded with serve as her bridesmaids. She did want flower girls, and thought she would ask Shaman's daughter Lily Pearl if she'd like to play that role. Rogue could not say that she knew Silver Moon well but she always got a good feeling from the young woman. Rory and Charlotte might be too young to be flower girls but Rogue decided to ask the girls' parents whether they thought their daughters would be old enough to participate.

Next, the couple tackled the question of who would perform the ceremony. "Kurt," Rogue said. "Who else could do it? He's a minister, and he and I are close."

"I agree, chere," Gambit said. He paused. "Now who is gonna give you away? The Professor?"

"I think it would have to be him. He's been the best father I ever had."

Gambit nodded and looked thoughtful. "Chere. How is your work with the Professor goin'?"

Rogue shrugged. "It's goin' alright." She didn't elaborate from there.

"You always so secretive 'bout dis stuff."

"What do you mean, sugar?"  


"Sometimes it seems to Gambit dat you don't want to talk about stuff like dis. Like the last healing ceremony you an' the others had. I heard 'bout how you destroyed the room from someone else before I hear it from you. And now everytime I ask you about your work with the Professor, you never tell me anyt'ing. Why is dat?" He said his words without reproach or anger; his tone was one of genuine curiosity.

"Oh, Remy." She reached for his hand and held it. "I think I just don't wanna bring you down. I mean, when we talk about the healing ceremony it just reminds us of what we're trying to heal from. That was such a horrible time for both of us. Part of me just wishes we could forget it. You already been so supportive.

Rogue continued, "Same thing with my talks with the Professor." She sighed. "We're goin' through some painful memories. He's not using his powers; we're just talkin.' I --- we---know enough now that we're sure I got a lotta bad stuff buried in my mind." She made a face. "Big surprise, I know," she said, shaking her head. "Lotta bad memories. Lotta scary, scary stuff. We keep scratching the surface of it but it's hard for me to go on. Sometimes we end our sessions an' we ain't talked about nothin' in particular because I just can't dig deeper."

Gambit murmured her given name and kissed her hand. "Anyt'ing you wanna talk about? You don't need to worry 'bout bringing Gambit down. I'm here for you."

"You're so wonderful, Remy. You're the best. I do appreciate it." She looked down. "Part of it is that I don't wanna rehash this stuff. Some of the talks with the Professor have been…..grueling. Not physically, but mentally. Lotta times I just don't wanna go back over it. And Charles says I gotta go at my own pace and not rush things. But like I said….I really don't wanna depress you. So that's why I don't talk `bout it so much with you. You got enough goin' on."

"Is your choice, chere…..I jus' hope you understand dat I love you and I wanna do whatever I can to help. If you ever do feel like talking….." his voice trailed off.

"I know. Maybe someday I'll take you up on your offer. But when we're together, I just feel happy and I don't wanna change that." Rogue got up and put her arms around Gambit's seated form. As always, she had to be careful since her collars were back in their room.

"Hey Swamp Rat," she began, in a totally different tone of voice, "remember what we talked 'bout tryin'? That fantasy. How 'bout tonight?"

Gambit's ears perked up. "Oh chere. I'd love dat." Thoughts of further wedding preparations were placed aside for the time being.

Later, Rogue and Gambit retired to their quarters to act out a fantasy. The couple had needed to replicate a few contraband accessories for their fantasy, but soon were ready to go. Rogue had donned a collar.

Gambit was role-playing a thief. Obviously it was not a stretch for him as he used to be one. However in this fantasy, Gambit had been caught-----**that** was out of character since, in real life, a master thief such as Gambit just did not get caught.

Rogue was role playing the cop who caught him. Gambit was lying naked on his back, with silky chords restraining his wrists and ankles against the bedboards. Someone as skilled as he could easily have broken free had he wanted to. However, given the "punishment" that awaited him, he had absolutely no desire to move.

Rogue strode up to him, fully clothed in her regular uniform, which she'd embellished with a gold sheriff star. "You've been a very bad boy," she teased, her eyes twinkling. "It's up to me to punish thieves `round these parts."

"Maybe Remy here can give you some reason to go easy on me," Gambit said. "You the mos' beautiful police officer dat I've ever seen."

"I bet you say that to every lady cop you meet," Rogue purred, meeting the seductive look in her lover's eyes.

With that, Rogue slowly stripped off her gloves and leaned over him until her face hovered inches from his. Her eyes had never left his. He could feel warmth of his breath against his lips. Instinctively, he moved his face closer to hers, his lips searching. Rogue pulled back, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

She slowly shook her head, "Ah ah, I didn't say you could kiss me did I, thief?"

Remy groaned, but didn't answer. Rogue reached down and gave Remy's left nipple a gentle but punishing squeeze. Remy groaned, and a barely discernable "No" slipped from his lips.

"What was that?" Rogue's hand moved over to his right nipple giving it the same treatment as its partner.

"No" Remy gasped out, louder this time.

"Good," Rogue replied, the sensual accent thickened by lust. She lent down and traced the outline of the first offended nipple then softly blew on it, causing a hiss to escape from between Gambit's lips.

Rogue placed a knee on each side of Remy's prone body and lent forward until again her face was hovering just inches from his. This time Remy stayed still. Triumph lit her eyes, but he didn't see it. She'd lowered her head slightly and her hair had tumbled down, obscuring her face.

Slowly she moved down his body. The warmth of breath was an erotic contrast to the cool silky tresses as they slid over his chest, past his well-defined abdomen and stopped just short of his hips. She sat upright. Remy moaned in disappointment. Rogue's tongue slipped out and traced the fullness of her top lip.

She shifted further down the bed till she rested between his calves. Placing a hand on either leg she slowly trailed her fingers up the outside of legs, stopping just above the knees and changing direction to sweep down the inside till his ankles. She started the caress again, inching higher than before but returning once more to his ankles. Again and again she repeated this action, moving closer to his shaft everytime, but never making the final move.

Remy was trembling. His every nerve was on end and his blood was pounding in his ears. He caught his breath with each caress up and let it out in tortured shuddering pants as she stroked down. A silent plea formed on his lips. `Please.' He looked down at his beautiful lover kneeling between his legs, her lips parted her eyes glazed with lust and power, and felt his pride slip. Again the word formed on his lips, this time unchecked, "Pl..."

Rogue lent forward and grasped his length. "Ooooh," Gambit breathed.

"Seems I got you in the palm of my hand," she said. She worked her hands up and down his steadily hardening cock. She knew the exact touches he liked and she stroked him accordingly. A few drops of pre-cum spilt from Gambit as her touches felt so delicious. Her fingers teased the swollen head for a bit before returning to his rod and vigorously pumping it.

"You like this, thief?" Rogue asked.

"You know dat I do," Gambit replied, taking a glance at his very swollen cock. She was so good at what she was doing. "You treat all your prisoners dis way?"

"Just ones like you." Rogue then ceased the movements of her hand. Gambit cried out with the pleasure-agony he felt at her withdrawal. Rogue then stepped away from the bed and slowly stripped off her uniform. Underneath, she was wearing a white, lacy bra and panties, complete with garter belt and hose. She removed only the panties, leaving herself quite a sight for Gambit. She knew this look drove him absolutely insane with lust.

"You look so delectable, Lady Cop," Gambit breathed.

"And so do you," she said, returning to his cock, but this time putting her mouth where her hand had been.

"Dis….the best torment…I ever experienced," Gambit managed. Rogue was licking the head of his length, paying it special attention. She then opened her mouth and took as much of him inside as she could. She slowly moved her mouth up and down.

"Don't stop, chere," Gambit murmured after several long moments. The pleasure was shooting through his veins, his senses were all aflame. "Please don't stop," he shamelessly begged.

"I call the shots around here, Mister," Rogue said. "It's up to me to make sure criminals like your kind get proper punishing."

Rogue then climbed atop her helpless prisoner and straddled his face. "Time for you to give me some head," she directed.

She lowered herself onto her lover's mouth. Gambit eagerly tilted his face upwards and tasted her. Clutching the bed frame, Rogue let the wondrous sensations wash over her as Gambit's tongue worked its magic on her. He licked circles around and on her clit, and she shuddered with a small but powerful climax.

"Very nice," she panted, as she dismounted him. "Perhaps I can let you off with a lighter sentence."

"Dis is one thief who will be glad to serve his time if he's gonna wit' a beautiful warden like you."

"Such flattery will get you no where," she replied, attempting to step back into character. Rogue then undid one of his ties. The couple then pretended that he would not be able to escape, and Rogue turned Gambit onto his stomach. She redid his restraints.

"What are you gonna do wit' me next, chere?" Gambit asked. He could scarcely wait to see.

After giving his buttocks a firm squeeze, Rogue fished around inside one drawer and pulled out a few objects. From his vantage point, Gambit couldn't see what she had in her hands. Rogue then got on the bed and straddled her fiance.

"Oh!" Gambit exclaimed, startled. Rogue was spreading some sort of moderately thick substance all over his form---his back and shoulders mainly. "What is dat?" He may have been a bit startled but he wasn't worried. He and Rogue trusted each other completely, which allowed them to occasionally act out these sort of fantasies.

"Chocolate," Rogue replied, smiling. She had replicated herself a bottle of creamy chocolate dressing, and was using a spatula to smooth it over her lover. "Mmmmm," Rogue sighed, as she began to lick it off his back. The sweetness of the chocolate mingled with the salty taste of his sweat. "Delicious….the best dessert I've had in a while."

"Delicious for me too, chere," Gambit moaned. He loved what her tongue was doing to him. Inwardly, he chuckled. So many years ago, he knew there was this amazingly sensual woman encased inside Rogue. Gambit impressed himself with how he had slowly and patiently brought out that quality of hers.

Although pleased with how the fantasy was playing out, it was now time to turn the tables. Within the blink of an eye, Gambit easily freed himself of his restraints and flipped Rogue over onto her back. Rogue let out a gasp of surprise. Gambit knew he had to play this part of the game carefully. He couldn't do anything to break her trust or bring back bad memories.

"Dis okay wit' you?" Gambit whispered in her ear as his hands gently covered hers, pinning her to the bed.

She gently nipped his chin. "You know I'll tell you if you do somethin' I don't like."

"I thought so." The tone of his voice then changed back to that of the character he'd been playing, "I see you no longer hold all the cards. Time for dis thief to have a little payback."

Gambit then lowered his body while keeping his weight on her. Rogue still wore her lacy bra, but he reached inside and cupped her smooth, pale globes. He squeezed them and pulled them out of the confines of her lingerie. "Beautiful," Gambit murmured, looking at her full breasts and the erect nipples. "What magnificent breasts you have, chere." He brought his face downwards and then licked, sucked and nibbled on her white flesh as Rogue groaned and sighed with pleasure.

When Gambit was done with her breasts, Rogue then found herself flipped onto her stomach. Without waiting to be asked or ordered, she raised herself on her hands and knees, and shifted her bottom into prominent view. She looked all the more fetching with the garter belt and stockings she wore. Gambit clutched her pale rear in his hands and enjoyed the feel of the soft skin. She looked so tantalizing. A few of his fingers ensured that she was wet and ready. "Fuck me, Remy," Rogue whispered.

Gambit swiftly put a condom on, and then entered his lover. Grasping her hips, he pumped in and out of her. The bedsprings creaked as the couple worked each other into a frenzy. Gambit looked down and delighted in the sight of his cock plunging in and out of her body. He reached around with one hand to cup and fondle a round breast.

Rogue thrust back at him in ecstasy. She felt a hot and deep climax welling up. "Oh Remy….Oh Oh Oh," she moaned. "Yes, Remy, YEEEEEEEES!" Gambit frantically thrust away and gasped as he poured his tribute inside her body.

The lovers later curled up together. Rogue was too keyed up to sleep though. Part of her was still adrift in sensual ecstasy----and the other part felt sheer happiness at the thought of her upcoming wedding.

I got up at the crack of dawn (metaphorically speaking) the next morning. First thing, I stopped by sick bay to visit Hank. Panda was in the infirmary, working away on a computer. The two of them were the only people in the room.

"How's it going?" I asked them after they got over the shock at seeing me out of bed so early. I meant to ask about things in general, but Hank took the question as being about the state of his research on cloaking devices. He went on to tell me how daunting the task was and used a lot of jargon to tell me what I already knew----we weren't going to have a non-detectable cloak anytime soon.

"You're brilliant," I said. "You'll think of something."

Hank smiled wearily. "I hope so." He tilted his head and looked in the direction of Panda. She caught that his gaze was on her and smiled back at him. "I must say that Jessica is equally brilliant as I."

"Oh, I wish!" Panda laughed, shaking her head.

"She is far too modest," Hank said, gazing at her with adoration. "Every time we work together, I see more and more evidence of her brilliance. If we had a university on An'zhina, Panda would be both a PhD and an MD by now." Panda rolled her eyes. I wondered if the mutation of being big and furry carried a genius-gene along with it, but decided not to ask. Hank then looked back and me and sighed. "I only wish that this project afforded us more leisure time. I honestly would prefer to have more time writing love sonnets to Panda rather than spend such a large quantity of time on research."

I raised my eyebrows. This was quite a change in Hank. But then again, before Panda he'd never really been in love before. The three of us arranged three chairs together and sat down to talk. We chatted about various things for a little while, and then Panda asked me how Jean-Paul was.

I started grinning at the question. "Um, well….things are great. We're doing fine. We—uh—got **intimate** last night," I said, in a tone that made it clear what I meant.

"So that's why you're up so early!" Panda said. She and Hank both congratulated me and looked happy for me. Panda then narrowed her eyes and looked intently at me. "Is something wrong though? I'm thinking you should look happier than you look," she remarked.

I nodded and then told of them how Jean-Paul had left the room to sleep in his own bed. "I just don't get it," I said. "We love each other. At least I was pretty sure we did. But then why didn't he stay?"

Panda suggested, "Maybe he needed time to….process the experience. Maybe he's still grieving over Phillippe in a way."

"But if he is, why go off alone? I could've comforted him."

"Different people exhibit various reactions to the same stimuli," Hank said. "My thought, based on the months I have spent around Northstar, is that he is an introvert. Introverts enjoy solitude."

Panda nodded. "And I still think part of him is hurting. Look at all he's lost---including Phillippe. Getting together with you was a big step towards intimacy and that can get scary."

Their words made sense. I'd been surprised and sad when he'd left my room but now I was trying to see things from Jean-Paul's perspective. "I think you're both right," I said. "I guess relationships are never easy."

"Have you seen him yet today?" Panda asked.

"No. It's still early, even for him." I was feeling better about things now. I turned over many thoughts in my head. "But thanks for your ideas. When I do see him if he needs some space, I'll give it to him."

Jubilee held her tray as she replicated breakfast for both herself and Aurora. She then sat at the table, next to the high chair she'd placed Rory in. She began spoon feeding the baby when Angel entered the mess hall.

Angel looked around the large hall. It was rather early and not many people were there----and thankfully Wolverine was no where in sight. Yesterday, when Angel and Jubilee had gone swimming together, Wolverine sat by the pool the entire time. Whenever Angel had glanced at the Canadian, he saw Wolverine steadily watching him. His time with Jubilee had been awkward because he knew Wolverine --- though sitting a respectful distance from them –-- could hear everything due to his super-sensitive hearing.

"You look beautiful this morning," Angel said, placing a hand on Jubilee's shoulder.

Jubilee turned her head to look up at Angel. She grinned from ear to ear. "Thank you." She tried to think of something to say in reply. Never before in her life had a man told her she was beautiful and she was, for once, tongue-tied.

Angel sat next to her and the two began talking amicably. Angel kept the conversation light in tone. After not long, the door to the mess hall slid aside and Wolverine entered. Logan walked right up to Angel and Jubilee, and took the seat in between them.

Right after my conversation with Hank and Panda, I went to the gym. As I walked down the hall, I felt the tired ache in my bones. I hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before and had gotten out of bed too early that morning. Physically I was paying for it with some stiff joints. I didn't look forward to my Danger Room sessions.

When the gym doors slid aside, my heart leapt a bit. Jean-Paul was there! He was lifting weights, breathing deeply. On the other end of the gym, Colossus and Elena were exercising. I approached Jean-Paul.

When he spotted me, he looked up and smiled. "Bon jour," he said, smiling. He set the barbell down.

"Hi," I said. My heart fluttered again. Jean-Paul extended his arms and pulled me into a hug. He brought his lips to mine and kissed me.

"Mmmmm," he said. "We had better stop this or we'll be useless for working out."

"That's okay," I said, reaching for another kiss. His lips were so sweet. Part of me could hardly believe any of this----that this handsome, wonderful guy was mine.

Jean-Paul then looked at me and looked around the gym, towards the door. He got a twinkle in his eyes. "You look cold, Iceman. Can I warm you up?" he asked, his eyebrows raised fetchingly.

So off we went. We went to his room and made love. It was heavenly. I felt confident that he did love me and it was just that he needed his space. But I never did ask him why he'd left my room the night before.

Back on Endaria, Queen Marina met with two members of her Executive Council. They were not pleased.

"We now have three earth starships patrolling the outskirts of our space." one of the executives exclaimed.

"It is an outrage," the other executive said, meeting Marina's placid gaze.

"The three vessels are not within Endarian space," Marina said calmly. "As long as they stay outside of the mists, they are not within our boundaries. If they enter the mists, we'll use our weaponry and propel the ships across the galaxy. No earth technology can compete with ours. I maintain the position I have always held----there is no cause for alarm. Earth starships have never been a match for our technology and never will be."

"That may be true. But never in the last thousand years has a hostile presence patrolled our space like this. And never before have we given over one of our moons to foreigners."

"We were not using An'zhina for anything else," Marina said. "And do we not all live by the principle that we should give aid and assistance to those who need it? The earth people needed our help and we have given it. It does not cost us anything. Compared to Endaria itself and our other moons, An'zhina is ugly and small."

"I have received complaints from my constituents about it."

The other executive nodded, "As have I."

"That is hard to believe," Marina stated. "The X-men and their adventures have been extremely popular on Endaria for years now. The television show and novels we have made about their lives are among our most highly rated. The least we can do is give them that moon.

"Even if that were not the case, I am not deviating from my plan," the Queen continued. "The three earth starships want us to turn over the 200 people living on An'zhina to them. If we do that, those 200 innocent people will be tortured and killed. We cannot allow that----it would be counter to every principle that our people hold dear and make a mockery of Endarian beliefs. We must assist those who need it and we must allow no harm or violence. These are part of the creed that has been passed down from generation to generation for millennia. These beliefs have allowed our civilization to thrive for as long. Have you forgotten the teachings of our elders?"

The first executive looked down. "Marina, I tell you that every day I hear from more and more people who want those foreigners off of An'zhina. The complaints are increasing in number, and the fact that we now have these three earth starships patrolling just outside our space is not helping anything."

"And you also forget," the other executive began, "that our ancestors **also** taught us to avoid contact with outside worlds so that we preserve our heritage and our ways. For millennia we followed that directive. My constituents tell me that they shudder to think what might happen now that we've broken it."

Freedom continued its journey back to earth. Rogue and Gambit's wedding preparations were taking shape, and the prospect of the celebration served as the beacon for most of the rest of the team. Most of the X-men were still smarting from being forced away from earth and how ineffectual they were against Friends of Humanity. The suffering of their brother and sister mutants back at home was never far from anyone's minds.

One afternoon, Rogue and Storm swam in the pool together. The X-men continued to train and perform Danger Room scenarios. The group's field commanders had gotten together and decided that anytime the team was living aboard the ship, training would be a part of their everyday lives, regardless whether they were heading towards or away from earth. That particular day, Rogue and Storm had finished their exercises and were resting.

"I am still quite honored," Storm was saying. "To be both your best man and maid of honor."

"We wouldn't want anyone 'cept you, sugar," Rogue smiled. "You've been such a true friend to both of us." Visions of her walking down the aisle danced in her head. She could scarcely wait to return to An'zhina.

"As both of you have been to me."

"You were Jean's maid of honor, right?" Rogue asked. Upon seeing Storm's nod in the affirmative, Rogue tilted her head. "Always a maid of honor, never a bride? You really like it that way?" her tone was gentle and she did not come off condescending.

Storm shrugged. "It does not matter to me whether I ever marry."

"So, uh,….how are things with Wolverine?" Rogue began cautiously. Storm had never told anyone of how she felt for Logan, but Rogue was starting to wonder if her feelings perhaps ran deeper than she let on. The thing with Storm was that she always allowed others to confide in her but never really shared her problems with anyone else. And just as she was mistress of the elements, she was mistress of her emotions. She had both mastered them and she also **masked** them. Rogue had known her for a long time but started wondering that day how well she really knew Storm.

"Fine," Storm said. "I am happy."

Rogue scrunched her eyebrows together. Storm did not really seem all that happy to her, not lately at least. Though sometimes it was hard to tell. The Wind Rider didn't exactly wear her emotions on her sleeve. "Has Betsy stopped hitting on him?"

Psylocke had made numerous advances on Wolverine during the journey, many of which had been public. Unbeknownst to Storm (or really anyone other than Wolverine and Psylocke), Psylocke had shown up in Wolverine's quarters one evening stark naked. Wolverine had escorted her out of his room.

"I do not know," Storm said, shaking her head, wishing desperately that her emotions could truly be as controlled as her powers. "A few nights ago I simply asked Wolverine that if he takes up with her, to let me know. He said he was not interested in her or in getting in between her and Angel."

"If she gets near Remy, I'll rearrange her pretty face. I even told her so."

"I imagine that was an interesting conversation," Storm commented, smiling patiently.

"Well, it worked. Remy says she's stayed away."

"I just wish Betsy would get some help," Storm said. "She is only reacting to what the FOH soldiers told her every day for four months. They told her she's a slut and a whore, and she believes it on some level. She's refused all of Xavier's offers of help. But we must have compassion for her. Perhaps if we had been imprisoned for the same amount of time, we would react as she is."

"I'll feel compassion for her as long as she stays the hell away from my man!" Rogue said.

The two ceased their conversation as several others entered the pool area. Later that day, Rogue kept flashing back to the looks on Storm's face during their talk. 'Is my mind playin' tricks or does she maybe have some feelings for Logan?' Rogue wondered.

Our trip back to earth seemed to pass pretty quickly. But if it seemed shorter than usual, it might have been because we never actually reached earth; we were stopped when the ship was about a week away from the planet. So in reality, our return trip took four weeks instead of the usual five and we'd been gone for eight weeks instead of the ten we'd planned on.

Of course I spent most of those weeks in bed with Northstar, which might go a long way in explaining why the time flew by.

As usual, when we reached a certain proximity to An'zhina, the Professor could telepathically link up with Jean Grey. (Actually, he could link up with anyone on the planet but given that Jean was telepathic too, the two of them had an easier and better rapport than he would with a non-telepath. He explained that to us once.) He updated Jean on what a total failure our mission had been, as well as on the fact that Hank was nowhere near finding a way to reinforce our cloak. The news from Jean that the Professor shared back with us was equally discouraging. We were told of Lu, the young woman who had contracted HIV at the concentration camp and who now had full-blown AIDS. Moira predicted that Lu did not have long to live, and Moira's level of success in finding a cure for AIDS was about the same as Hank's level of success in his work with the cloaking device. As we sat around the dinner table, the Professor told us that Queen Marina had been asked but refused to help with Lu's condition. Several bewildered looks were exchanged and I saw Jean-Paul rub his mechanical arm with a questioning look on his face.

On the good news front, Jean said her pregnancy was coming along well and she expected to give birth about two weeks after we'd land on An'zhina. We were all glad we'd be there for the birth. Although a doctor, Moira's only experience with childbirth was when her son was born nearly two decades ago, so it was fortunate that Hank would be there since he'd delivered both Aurora and Charlotte.

I'll admit that Jean-Paul and I had been pretty wrapped up in each other for the entire trip home. Gambit once joked with us as he trained aside us one day. "Have you two spent a week in bed? 'Cause Gambit's not seen either of you for so long. We start to wonder if you guys still on board the ship," he teased.

We weren't **that** bad and I was careful not to shut out other people. I'd never do that, since my friends mean so much to me. One day, I was having lunch with Jubilee (and Rory.) We'd decided to eat in a conference room just so we could have some privacy. She asked me a lot of questions about how things were going with Northstar. She wanted details, details, details and I didn't mind, so I gave them all to her. I also told her the one thing that still bothered me----Jean-Paul wanted his own room and he and I never spent the night together. We'd always make love in my room and then he'd go off and sleep in his.

"Maybe he snores," Jubilee said.

I shrugged. "So? You snore," I said, reminding her of the time we'd shared a tent on the Paradise Planet. "Panda snores and Hank just deals with it."

"Maybe he talks in his sleep."

"What and secretly reveals his crush on another guy?" I joked. "That's okay, I can take it."

"Well….maybe he looks awful in the morning and he doesn't want you to see it."

"Everyone looks awful in the morning! Big deal." I shook my head. "He just says he wants his own space. If that's what he wants, I have to allow him it." I then turned the topic around to Jubilee. "Okay, Jubes," I began. "Give me the scoop. What's this with you and Angel?"

She giggled. "There is no `me and Angel.' And boy, you're out of it if you haven't noticed what's been going on."

"I'm sorry! Jean-Paul and I have been….well, now you know since I told you every detail. And we still have to train and do bridge duty shifts." Since Psylocke had been suspended from the X-men, there was one less person to cover bridge duty. You wouldn't think it would make such a difference, but it did. No one wanted the night shifts, but with one less person, you got stuck with such a shift that much more often. "I'm sorry if I haven't been keeping up with things."

Jubilee shrugged. "There's not much to tell. Angel kinda was interested in me for a while. I was taken in with it for a few days till I came to my senses."

"What happened?"

"I discussed it with Wolverine and Storm," she said simply, as she spooned another bite of food into Rory's mouth. "They didn't say anything but I told them it felt weird….I'd never thought of Warren that way. And the more I thought of it, the more I knew he was after me cause he missed Psylocke and was maybe trying to make her jealous." Jubilee smiled. "Wolvie made some comment like the only males on the ship Betsy hadn't chased after were Bobby and Northstar."

I smiled. "True enough. And the Professor, I presume." I paused. "Though maybe not. She did hit on Kurt, for Christsakes."

"I know. So anyway, I just told the two of them it didn't seem right to me, though I really loved the idea of a boyfriend. Wolvie and Storm were happy. I found a nice way to let Warren know I wasn't interested and that was that."

"You're very smart, Jubilee. And I think you're totally right. Warren's upset about Betsy. They may or may not get back together but you don't want to be in the middle of that. You don't want to get caught in that crossfire. Someday I promise you, you'll get a guy who's really interested in **you.** Not someone who's rebounding from someone else."

She sighed. "I really hope so, Bobby. I gotta think that someday------"

She was cut off by the red alert siren. We were all ordered to report to our stations.

"I am sensing hundreds of minds nearby," the Professor was saying. "I would guess that there are two or three FOH ships in the vicinity."

"I wonder why Jean didn't warn us of them," speculated Angel, who had been on bridge duty and sat at his station, navigation. Rogue was sitting at the weapons station, and Storm had joined the three on the bridge.

"Perhaps they are too far from An'zhina for her to detect," Storm speculated.

"She might just not be attuned to them," Xavier said. "And she is quite preoccupied with her upcoming arrival." The impending battle took his mind away from speculating. "The ships are rapidly approaching us. We-----"

His voice was cut off by a phaser blast. Once again, the X-men were in a position of having to defend themselves from invisible foes. Angel and Rogue steered the ship and returned fire as best as they could, but just as before, fighting cloaked ships proved impossible.

Storm silently wished they were engaging in hand to hand, rather than ship to ship, combat. Not that she was a violent person. But she wanted to use her powers----and the trouble was, in space there were no elements to command.

When Freedom had sustained serious damage to its shields and engines once more, Storm took a pointed look at the Professor. He closed his eyes and began to use his powers. Just then, Psylocke entered the bridge. Xavier, absorbed in his work, did not notice her. She, too, closed her eyes and began entering FOH minds.

As a reflex, Charles rubbed his temples as he worked. Over 700 minds surrounded them, minds full of hatred and violence. Some were afraid, some confused, and some regretful. But most were full of blood lust, rage, and loathing. Charles had seen much in his fifty-plus years, but the venom took even him aback. He forced himself to concentrate even more. Whatever telepath had been blocking him on earth was not present on these ships. Xavier sensed no mutants.

By the time Charles had successfully turned away one of the FOH ships, Psylocke had occupied the mind of the captain of the second one. Charles was about to order her to cease when he realized there was indeed a third FOH ship participating in the attack. He had to fend that one off as well. Dimly he was aware of the ship rocking, of Storm ordering damage control teams to the impacted areas. "Shields down to 35% and our engines are failing!" he heard Rogue report.

Charles silently debated with himself for a second but decided to let Psylocke do what she wanted with the second vessel, as he began going through the minds on the third ship, trying to pick out the captain and take control of his mind. He felt he needed to urgently deal with the third ship before he could consider asking Psylocke to cease the use of her powers against the second FOH vessel.

Freedom rocked as it felt the aftershocks from a huge explosion. As she had before, Psylocke had convinced the FOH captain to set the ship on auto-destruct, and she had ensured no one else would question the order or hesitate in carrying it out.

"What happened?" Rogue asked, though she suspected the answer.

"An FOH ship blew up," Psylocke told her. Rogue blinked away the sense of déjà vu.

"We're still under fire," Angel said, trying to out-maneuver the third ship, which was fervently blasting away at Freedom. Rogue again attempted to hit the invisible target but met with no success. After not long, the Professor had seized enough control over the ranking officers' minds on board the third vessel. He persuaded them to eject their photon torpedos and disarm their phasers. He then suggested that they set a course towards earth. As he had before, he implanted some trepidation in their psyches that would arise when they thought of Endaria, to dissuade them from heading back that way.

The X-men continued on towards An'zhina, unobstructed this time.

Scott Summers was shocked at the exhaustion on the face of his surrogate father. In twenty years of working under the Professor's tutelage, Scott had never seen the man looking so thoroughly worn-out. He bent down and unabashedly hugged his teacher.

"I'm fine, Scott," Charles said, sensing his concern and returning the hug best he could from his sitting position. Every time they were separated, he truly missed Scott and Jean. "I just need some rest. Fending off FOH so many times has drained me. My powers need to recharge."

When Scott stepped away, Jean then reached for the Professor and kissed his forehead. Between the advanced stage of her pregnancy and his wheelchair bound condition, a hug was pretty much out of the question. "I hope you will indeed rest, then," Jean said. "I have never seen you looking this tired."

"I promise to rest," Charles said, touched at their concern and realizing the wisdom of their words. Charlotte promptly scampered up to Charles and extended her arms. Scott lifted his daughter onto the Professor's lap, and Charlotte eagerly kissed her namesake. "I missed you, dearest," Charles said to the baby. He then looked intently at her and nodded. "She understands everything." Just seeing the delight in Charlotte's brilliant blue eyes rejuvenated Charles's spirits.

"I know," Jean said. "She understands better than many adults. She's amazing." Jean's tone then changed from glowing parent to concerned friend. "But back to your need for rest. Please, Professor, please do make good on your promise and not work so much this time. After all, you want to be rested and healthy to see your new grandson," she smiled, patting her abdomen.

The Professor later made his way to his quarters. With no new rescued mutants to acquaint to An'zhina, there truly was no pressing work to be done. But the X-men would all have a meeting the next day. And Charles did want to meet with Cyclops, Jean, Moira and Banshee for a more formal update on the status of An'zhina. `But it can all wait,' Charles told himself. `There is nothing urgent.'

Jean and Scott looked at each other. "I've never seen him looking that exhausted," Jean said.

Scott scooped Charlotte up in his arms and nodded. "Did he always have those lines on his face?"

Jean smiled, "Yes, but they are deeper now and he looks thinner. The good news is that he understands he needs rest."

"But you know our Professor. He'll find a way to make work for himself and stay exhausted."

"Then we'll just have to make sure he makes good on his promise. He has no one to look after him so perhaps we'd better be the ones."

It was good to be home. Once I'd settled back in and said hi to many of those who'd remained on An'zhina, I went off by myself. Jean-Paul was with his sister and nephew. When I'd seen Jeanne-Marie, I'd given her an awkward hug but I was getting the sense that maybe she didn't like me too much. But then again, maybe I was just being paranoid. She was quiet and withdrawn----and no wonder, since she'd suffered and lost so much. Maybe it was nothing personal. But anyway, I didn't want to interrupt the Beaubier family reunion so I went off by myself.

It was a warm day, so I went to the beach. I really missed swimming outside. Somehow the pool on Freedom was becoming less and less adequate. The ship's pool had no warm sunshine, no fresh breeze blowing and no grainy sand. Others soon joined me at the beach but I was content to lay on my back by myself. Feeling the warm sand against my backside, I looked up at the sky. It was odd. The view looked so much like the one from earth----I saw white, fluffy clouds against the blue of the sky. We were so far from home, but this looked like any view from earth. The sky was so far away but it felt so near too. It was incredible and breathtaking. I reflected a minute on how lucky those mutants who had the gift of flight were. Imagine having the ability to fly and soar up there in the sky. To Jean-Paul and the others who could fly, it was as natural as breathing. My ice slides just weren't the same.

"That one looks like a turtle, no?"

I gasped and looked to my side. Jean-Paul was there. He startled me. I started to get up but he gestured for me to stay down, and he lay down next to me on the blanket. "Are you looking for shapes in the clouds?" he asked me. "Jeanne-Marie and I used to do that all the time when we were young. You seemed so absorbed in the clouds."

"I was just looking at how incredible the view is," I said. "You're so lucky to be able to fly."

"Indeed I am. I enjoy it too," he said.

"Why do you think some mutants are gifted with some powers, and other mutants get other powers?" I wondered.

"God determines what each of us gets," he said.

"I'd been thinking it was luck of the draw."

"I don't know, mon ami. I think God has a plan for each of us. There's a reason for it."

Jean-Paul reached for my arm and gave it a few caresses. I craned my neck and shoulders up, and looked around. No one was nearby though several others were making use of the beach. I reminded myself that I shouldn't have to worry about that either. Once my attentions were away from fear, I thought back to what Jean-Paul had just said. "Are you a Christian then?" I asked, at his mention of God. We'd never really discussed religion before and I wondered.

"Jeanne-Marie and I were raised Catholic," he said. "I don't agree with everything the church teaches but the basic principles of Christianity, I support."

I nodded. I told him that my religious beliefs were somewhat "on hold." I wasn't sure what I believed. He was tolerant of that and didn't proselytize, which I appreciated.

We continued to lay there, me staring up at the clouds still. "If you want, I take you up there. We can fly among the clouds right now," Jean-Paul was saying.

"I would like that," I said. He scooped me up in his strong arms, and off we went. He had changed into beach wear too, so it was mostly bare skin against mostly bare skin. As we ascended, I didn't feel fear. His hold on me was secure and we flew as high as possible without gasping for air.

The next day, we had our all X-men meeting. It had become tradition each time we returned to An'zhina; just as a way to get everyone at the table, as to speak, and discuss what had happened while we were separated.

Joining us were two of the mutants who'd been rescued from the two FOH camps we'd liberated. The rescued mutants had requested that they have a few representatives at our meetings, and it was certainly a reasonable request. Yunfei, from the camp in Beijing and Erica, from the camp in London, sat in the meeting. Neither participated much but it was good that they were there.

We discussed at length the events of our eight week trip towards earth. We X-men decided to remain on An'zhina for an extended period of time this time around. Hank needed to work on a better cloak and he still was not predicting any success for "weeks or months." The Professor clearly needed to recover from over-using his powers; he admitted as much. (Another factor, too, was that when we did go back to earth, the Professor would likely be the only telepath on the trip. No one said as much but given that Psylocke had destroyed two FOH ships, it was probable that she was going to be asked to sit the next mission out. Rumor had it she was going to be suspended indefinitely. So the Professor would really need to be back to 100% when we set out again.) Plus, we would all stay for the birth of Jean and Scott's baby and, later, for Rogue and Gambit's wedding. I was glad. It could mean we'd be here for two or three months possibly, and I wasn't going to argue with that. We'd earned it.

Then Cyclops updated us on what we'd missed since we'd been gone. He and the other leaders on An'zhina had been teaching the rescued mutants how to control their powers and they said things were coming along well. The monument was now finished and we all looked forward to seeing it after the meeting. Jean said that the mutants were continuing to heal and recover from their experiences in the camps, though she reminded us that such healing could be "a lifelong process."

The conversation then turned towards Lu's condition. Lu was in the final stages of AIDS and confined to a bed in the infirmary. Moira was saying, "Scientists on earth haven't been able to come up with a cure for this horrible disease for so long….and I'm not having much success either, unfortunately."

"And Queen Marina refuses to assist?" Hank asked, sounding incredulous.

"She wilna help at all."

"Is it that they do not have a cure for the disease or that they have a cure but are unwilling to share it?"

Moira looked over at Jean and Scott. Jean then said, "She refuses to help in any way. She did not specify whether they had a cure or not."

Moira said, "Possibly they do not have a disease like AIDS on Endaria, but given that their science is so advanced, I canna believe that they couldn't come up with a cure if they wanted to." She paused. "But it seems they do not want to."

There was some more discussion. Then Rogue spoke up. "I have a question. It seems to me….that there's been a change in the way the Endarians are treatin' us all. I mean, they fixed Northstar's arm not too long ago."

Jean-Paul nodded. "I know. I don't understand either. Surely Lu's disease is more important than my arm. Why were they so accommodating then and not now?"

There were some rumblings and some side discussions occurring. Obviously Rogue and Jean-Paul weren't the only ones wondering about this. Cyclops then spoke, "When she helped with Norhtstar's arm, Marina made it clear that we were to regard that as going above and beyond what the Endarians would be willing to assist us with. I think maybe we've asked her for too many favors and she's taking a hard line now. After all, she lent us the Valiant when we asked."

"Yes," Jean said. "She was very clear that her Executive Council---the body of government which is elected by the people of Endaria and which has a great deal of clout---is angry at her because of all the favors she's granted us. So if there is a shift in her behavior towards us, that must be why. She told us again how xenophobic her people are. Look at all she's done for us."

"She's given us a moon, for goodness' sakes." Scott said. "I think from now on we should expect nothing more from her."

"After all," Jean said, "that was what our original agreement entailed. She would give us the moon and unlimited use of the replicators, and nothing more. I think we are lucky that she lent us the Valiant and repaired Northstar's arm, but we must come to expect nothing more now."

Gambit was sitting in between Rogue and I. I saw him whisper something to Rogue, and she nodded in reply. He then leaned over towards me and whispered in my ear, "You get the idea dat Jean and Cyke—and maybe the Professor too---know somethin' dat we don't?"

I nodded. I had no idea what it might be though.

"I'm really nervous about this," Jean was saying to Scott one morning.

Now that the rest of the X-men had returned, it had been time for the mediation to take place to resolve the conflict between Todd and Northstar. Jean approached Northstar and Bobby after the X-men meeting, and then the following day, the mediation was scheduled for after lunch.

"You'll do fine," Scott said reassuringly. He could feel Jean's concern. Over the years, when he'd been anxious, she had used their mindlink to flood his mind with positive feelings. He tried to do the same for her today.

Jean shook her head. "I really can't believe it. Here we are, light years away from earth. We're creating our own world and our own culture here on this moon. And now I'm presiding over the first mediation on An'zhina. I have no experience with this but I'm going to be playing mediator." She paused. "I keep feeling like what we do here is important. Maybe even historic. I want to do it right." During the absence of the rest of the X-men, there had been conflicts on the moon, but nothing that had resulted in a fist fight; nothing that had required arbitration.

Scott put a hand on Jean's shoulder. "You, more than anyone, will be fair and just. I know you'll decide what's right."

"I hope so. It's just that…..did I tell you what Todd said to me this morning?"

"No. What did he say?" Scott asked.

"He asked me if I was capable of doing the mediation, given my `condition.' I asked him what he meant by my `condition.' He talked around it for a while and then finally said he meant my pregnancy." Jean smiled and shook her head. "I forced myself to be polite. I said simply, `I have both a brain and a uterus, and the fact that one is working doesn't impair the functioning of the other.'"

Scott smiled. "Brilliant answer! You are as smart as you are beautiful, my love."

"Thank you," Jean said, glowing at the compliment. After all these years, Scott had this effect on her still----and she knew she had it on him. "I'm sure Todd meant well but I didn't appreciate his comment," she added. Jean didn't elaborate from there. She didn't care for Todd in general, and his comment made to her was not helping. Jean hoped she truly could be objective. She'd always liked Bobby, even though Scott never really had. Even during his first stint with the X-men, she had felt his pain and depression, and desperately wanted to help him. She'd missed him during the seven years he'd taken off from the group. And as for Northstar? Jean hardly knew him but she did know the happiness he'd brought Bobby. She saw his arrogance and sensed that he had a more forceful personality than he was showing, but she also perceived that his being was essentially good.

After lunch, Jean and Scott entered the appointed conference room. Charlotte was left in the care of Wendy, one of the rescuees whom Jean trusted completely. Scott would be at the mediation as a witness. In addition to Northstar, Bobby, and Todd, Erica would attend as well. Since she'd been informally elected as one of the "representatives" from the other mutants on An'zhina, she would listen in and ensure the mediation seemed fair. But everyone knew they were playing this by ear----both the mediation and the system of having representatives.

Chapter 7

Chapter 9 


	9. Chapter 9

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 9 

Freedom 

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 9

I was **not** looking forward to this. Jean-Paul and I knew it was coming but we rarely ever spoke of it. And now the day was here. Yuck.

When we entered the conference room, Jean and Scott were already there. The table, which could seat ten people, was round. I followed Jean-Paul as he got himself a glass of water (I wished for something stronger) and then took a seat. He left two empty chairs between himself and Jean. We said hello to the couple and made small talk by asking them about Charlotte. They were both pleasant enough. Mostly it was Jean and Jean-Paul conversing together; Scott and I were quieter.

Erica entered the room a minute later and sat on Jean's right side (Scott was on her left.) Then Todd came in, and left one empty chair between himself and Scott, and another chair between himself and me.

Jean then greeted everyone and made a few statements. She said something like we're not here to punish anyone or for vengeance. She said we're here because the X-men have the goal of keeping An'zhina a violence-free place and of peaceably resolving conflicts. "And as uncomfortable as it may be to relive unpleasant things, we sometimes need to, in order to move on," she said. She then paused and looked perhaps uncertain. Jean-Paul raised his hand, and Jean nodded at him.

"Just so I am clear," he began, "what is the desired outcome of this meeting?" Jean-Paul sounded calm and professional. I took that as a good sign though I suspected he was keeping his true emotions in check.

She gave an answer that sounded a bit rehearsed. "We hope that both sides can clear the air and discuss what occurred. And the hope is that in doing so….some agreement or understanding can be reached so as to prevent another incident like this."

Much as I loved Jean, I got the distinct impression that she was totally winging it. A glance at Jean-Paul indicated that he thought the same. I wondered if she was reading our doubt and if that might be making her even more worried.

Jean went on to say that it would be beneficial if "both parties" would recount what had happened. "When one person is speaking, it would be best if we let them talk uninterrupted," she added. She then asked who wanted to go first.

Jean-Paul and Todd looked at each other, and each deferred to the other, politely telling the other that he should go first. Finally, after a bit of back and forth, Jean-Paul agreed to speak.

"Bobby and I were walking back to our rooms that evening," he began. "We stopped outside of Bobby's room and kissed each other goodnight. Just like any other couple you see around here kissing in public---and you do see that a lot. All of a sudden, we're interrupted by Todd. I don't remember exactly what happened---it was two months ago, after all---but he yelled at us to stop kissing and called us a bunch of names. He called us `faggots' and so on. I got really angry. I've been putting up with this shit all my life and I don't need to hear it from other mutants, for God's sake. I was disgusted." I knew Jean-Paul had been keeping his anger under wraps. Now he'd let it bubble right up to the surface. "So Todd and I ended up in a fist fight. I don't remember who struck first, but he definitely attacked us, verbally."

Jean Grey then looked at me. "Bobby, is there anything you want to add to that? Anything you remember differently?"

"No," I said. I didn't say anything more but I clearly remembered that Jean-Paul struck first. And I knew Todd didn't call us "faggots." He did call us "perverts", though.

Jean then asked Todd to tell his version of what happened. "I was walking back to my room," he began, "from the rec room. I had to pass Bobby's room, and as I did, I saw the two of them." He paused briefly. His gaze was in the direction of Jean, Scott, and Erica. He did not look at Jean-Paul or myself. "They weren't just kissing. They were really making out. They were touching each other, groping each other's….parts. I could go on and get more detailed but------"

"He's lying!" Jean-Paul burst out. He faced Todd, "You lousy son of a bitch. We weren't doing anything that-----"

"Silence!" Jean said. Jean-Paul stopped talking, shocked—as I was—to hear Jean Grey yelling. "Northstar, Todd was quiet while you spoke," she said slowly and less loudly. "Please show him the same courtesy." Her tone was forceful and commanding. I fleetingly admired how far Jean had come since I first met her.

Despite Jean's words, Jean-Paul looked ready to continue lashing out. I gently patted his arm and implored him to be quiet. He looked at me, sat back, and shut his mouth.

Todd was asked to continue. He did so, again looking at Jean and Scott. "So they were really being lewd. I politely asked them to stop it. I asked them to go inside their room if they must. There are children here, and I know any parent wouldn't want their kids to be witnessing anything like that. I'm sure as parents, you two would agree. But when I politely asked the two of them to stop, Northstar punches me. Well, as you can see, he's a much bigger guy than I am and he's had combat training. I haven't. He beat me to a pulp." Todd then went on to describe the condition Jean-Paul left him in. It was not pretty. I'd seen it with my own eyes and at this point I think Todd spoke the truth----Jean-Paul beat the crap out of him.

When Todd was finished, Jean then asked Cyclops, as the final witness, to describe what he saw. This wasn't good either. Cyke said he saw Northstar beating up Todd, and he then went on to describe the extent of Todd's injuries. As Scott spoke, I tried to read his expression. I couldn't see his eyes, of course, and didn't know what he was thinking. That day, though, I realized that thinking of my relationship with Jean-Paul made his skin crawl. I was taken aback by that realization. I had never thought Scott Summers to be one of the more open-minded people on this subject, but that day his revulsion was palpable to me.

Jean then turned back to Jean-Paul and I, and asked if we had anything else to say or to clarify. I patted Jean-Paul's hand, signaling to him to let me talk. So he kept quiet and I spoke. "Jean, I just want to correct something that Todd said. We definitely weren't `groping' each other or doing anything lewd like that. We were just kissing. We weren't doing anything that I haven't seen Rogue and Gambit---or even you and Scott---doing in public."

From then on, I truly think Jean had only a vague idea of what to do. As Scott asked us a question, I saw some sort of exchange between Jean and Scott. I think maybe they had a telepathic exchange. But Cyclops anyway asked Jean-Paul whether he sustained any injuries during the fight with Todd. Jean-Paul was forced to answer a curt, "No." That didn't sound good either, compared to the list of bruised and smashed body parts on Todd.

There were a few other questions (I think Erica asked one) and points discussed. Jean then suggested that we take an hour's break and reconvene later.

"Professor, I have absolutely no idea what to do! Governing An'zhina is simple when everything is going smoothly. Now I am lost."

Jean and the Professor had entered his room for this discussion. Jean had been fortunate that Charles had no counseling sessions on his schedule at this time, and she'd insisted to Scott that she wanted to speak to their mentor alone. She stood before Xavier, too riled up for the moment to sit down. Plus, she found that alternating between standing and sitting helped her physical comfort level at this stage in the pregnancy.

Xavier chuckled and rubbed his weary eyes with one hand. Jean furrowed her brows in confusion until she realized---without using her powers--- what he was thinking. "I get it," she said, a light bulb going off in her head. "You're thinking back to all the times over the years that the X-men fought like this."

Charles shook his head, a smile of irony on his face. "Indeed. There have been too many fights over the years to recall. What a contentious group they used to be. Cyclops, Wolverine and Gambit fought with each other so much. I can still hear the yelling and see the fights---often they were over nothing. There were some nights I would pour myself a cognac and tell myself I was insane for running this school for the gifted, for wanting to lead the X-men. Those were the nights I would tell myself that I should live as other wealthy men do, spending my fortune on frivolous material goods and not on some impossible dream."

Jean's eyes were wide. "Really? I—I'm just surprised that you ever felt that way."

"Oh, those times were the exceptions and not the rule. But, as the saying goes, I'm only human." He paused and looked at his student. How proud he was of her-----proud of her for everything she had done, and even for being secure enough to come seek his council. "Jean, it is never easy to lead a group of people. I think it is perhaps easier to lead them in battle than to manage their relationships with each other."

Jean nodded. "But we have a unique challenge on An'zhina. We have over 200 people here. We need some sort of rules….some principles that everyone agrees to. Otherwise we'll have chaos. Over the years, we X-men have had our share of fights and arguments----some of them ugly. But I think we stayed together because we had some core beliefs, some core principles that we were striving for." As she spoke, Jean paced before Charles. The weight of her pregnancy didn't allow her to move as nimbly as she'd been accustomed to but she had no more desire to be sitting down again. "I think we need those on An'zhina. And that's what I keep coming back to on this mediation. Someone violated some basic principles. But I'm just not sure who's violation was worse."

"And remember the goal of the mediation process."

"Yes. We're not out to punish anyone but find ways for us all to live together in peace." Jean shook her head. "But I was raised an American and I keep going back to our judicial process----what I know of it, anyway. I keep feeling like there should be a winner and a loser. Tell me, Professor. Who do you think was more at fault?"

"It is not a matter of finding fault," the Professor reminded her. "Focus on the kind of society we want to create here. Think about it."

"Well, we want a society without violence. And Northstar clearly went against that."

"Yes. He was wrong in that. What prompted his anger?" Charles asked.

"Prejudice. He was angry at prejudice, which is what Todd exhibited."

Charles nodded. "And consider this: one of our ultimate goals is to have a society where prejudice is unheard of. Any kind of prejudice. We all want a society where every human being is considered unique and valuable." He paused. "Now this particular subject---homosexuality----makes many people uncomfortable. I myself am not going to say whether it is right or wrong, and I certainly will not judge either. But I will put a stake in the ground and say that it is crucial that we avoid a stratified society like the one on earth. We don't want a world where people are ranked based on characteristics such as gender, race or genetics….or sexuality. We have such a stupendous chance here, a chance to create a culture that is truly egalitarian. It should be the goal of every citizen here to strive for that.

"You are a born leader, Jean," Charles continued. "I will trust that you have the answer and you know what to do."

Jean paused and tried to absorb his words. A question formed on her lips. She had already shared with the Professor that she'd used her powers to discern that Todd had lied when he'd said that Northstar and Bobby were doing anything more than kissing in public. And she'd also told Charles that Northstar had lied when he'd said that he did not recall who had struck the first blow. She wanted to address the fact that they had lied. But she bit back her question and simply thanked the Professor for his time.

Maybe two hours later, we were asked to return to the conference room. So we all reassembled, each sitting exactly where they had before.

I wasn't as nervous this time. I just kept reminding myself that Jean said the purpose of this was not for vengeance or anything like that. I glanced at Jean-Paul. As so often, he'd wanted some "space" during the break, so I'd let him go. I didn't know how he was feeling, but he had hugged me when he saw me inside the conference room. I considered that a good sign.

Jean didn't have any prepared speech or any formal remarks to say. She looked so much more relaxed than before which was a little disarming. Once we were all sitting around the table, she simply asked us all to talk about why we lived on An'zhina and what sort of society we'd like to see. I think both Jean-Paul and Todd were a bit taken aback by that. I don't remember all of what was said, except that Jean-Paul and Todd both said they wanted something similar----a place where mutants and humans could live in peace, a safe place, etc, etc. I then realized how brilliant Jean was, as she got the two to realize that on some level at least, they did have something in common.

Jean then went on to say, "You both agree on a lot in terms of what you'd like An'zhina to be. I share your goals for this society too. I hope we can all agree to work for that kind of a society. Each and every one of us needs to be valued and respected as a person." She then turned to Todd. "Todd, you have a right to your own opinions. I ask that you keep from calling anyone any offensive names, though." She then turned to Jean-Paul. "I understand your anger at what occurred, Northstar. But you must realize that violence is not an appropriate response. It never solves anything." She paused briefly. "Can both of you agree to keep from calling each other insulting names and from using physical violence with each other?" she asked.

I was hopeful that both guys would say yes and we'd be done with it. But Todd crossed his arms over his chest and said, "I'll agree if those two agree not to touch each other in public."

Before Jean-Paul could speak, and I had a good idea as to what he was going to say, Jean said, "I do not think we want to outlaw kissing in public on An'zhina. I think everyone can agree that people should not do anything beyond kissing or hugging in public. But I don't want to live in a place where things like hand-holding or kissing are forbidden. Do you, Todd?"

Either Jean had convinced him or he just was tired and wanted out of there. I think it was the latter. Todd looked about to say something else but did not. Instead he muttered, "No."

So Jean-Paul, Todd and I all agreed not to use violence with each other or verbally insult each other again. Jean then mandated that both Jean-Paul and Todd spend an extra fifteen hours on community service. (Because of the replicators, An'zhina kinda ran itself but there are always miscellaneous tasks to be done.) Jean then smiled, looking relieved, and adjourned the meeting.

Before anyone had gotten up or left the room, Jean-Paul reached for me, placed a hand on my cheek, and we pressed our lips together for a second or two. Afterwards, I smiled, biting my lip and willing myself not to look at Todd or Cyclops for their reactions.

Within the span of a week, the X-men found themselves facing life and death, though not on the battleground. Lu died, and Jean and Scott's second baby was born. The two events occurred within days.

Lu had been going downhill fast. As soon as Hank had heard of her condition, he had joined Moira's search for a cure. Hank had been working 14 hour days, devoting the bulk of his time to work on AIDS research and any time remaining to research the cloaking device. It was to no avail. Shaman had tried numerous times to use his powers on Lu, but as he had already known, this powerful disease was beyond him. When Lu reached a point that her suffering was unbearable, she asked Moira to give her something to end her pain. Moira had not the heart to refuse her.

An'zhina's citizens held a brief ceremony for Lu and buried her inside a clearing within the forested area. A marker for her grave was carved, rather than replicated. No one had known Lu well, but the loss was crushing. As Storm stood in between Wolverine and Jubilee at the burial, she thought to herself, `This is the second one.' After the X-men had liberated the Beijing camp, one of its survivors had killed herself. The ceremony for that woman, as Lu's, had been awkward and heartbreaking too. `How many more shall we lose to this sort of violence?' Storm wondered.

Just a few short days later, Jean Grey went into labor. This was concerning to many as the baby's due date was still over a week away. Yet all went well; the birth was nearly as effortless as Charlotte's had been. Jean's powers allowed her to mute most of the physical pain she experienced and to help expedite the baby's emergence. Hank, Moira and Scott had helped with the delivery as most of the rest of the X-men milled around outside of the infirmary, waiting. When the baby was born, Panda, who had been assisting, stepped outside of the infirmary and informed the other X-men, "Christopher is here. Eight lbs, two ounces and very healthy."

Rogue and Gambit had been sitting on the floor with Charlotte, doing babysitting duty. Just a split second or two before Panda had made the announcement, Charlotte's ears had perked up. "Brother!" she'd exclaimed.

Rogue and Gambit looked at each other. Charlotte was one incredible child. As soon as Panda said that Jean and Scott were inviting others to see the baby, Charlotte tugged at Gambit's duster, asking to be carried into the room at once.

The X-men one by one approached Jean, who lay on the bed, her face flushed as she held her crying son. Scott perched next to her, glowing with pride. He was holding Charlotte now, and the girl was gazing at her brother, beaming with joy. As his sister, Christopher had Jean's bright red hair.

Just like when their daughter had been born, Jean and Scott wanted to be alone with the baby as soon as everyone had had a look and welcomed him into their extended family. So the family of four was left alone in the room as they darkened the lights and had a few candles lit.

A few days after Christopher was born, the X-men held a ceremony/celebration to welcome him, as they had done with Aurora and Charlotte. Many of their spirits were dampened at the recent death of Lu, but celebrating the new life helped soothe the wounds a bit.

Rogue looked at Jean and Scott and their two beautiful children, and looked back at Gambit. He returned her smile, knowing precisely what she was thinking. He was not surprised when she told him the following day that she wanted to work on solidifying their wedding plans.

Gambit prepared for bed late one evening. Rogue was with the Professor. Lately their sessions had been lasting longer than usual, and she asked him not to wait up for her that night.

It was quite late on An'zhina. Gambit had hung out in the rec room, talking amicably with a few of the rescuees there and playing cards with of those who did not yet know never to play against him. He noticed a few of the women there were quite beautiful, as most mutant women were, but forced himself to refrain from doing any harmless flirting. Although recovering from their trauma, these women were survivors of mass rape, a thought which still made Gambit a bit queasy. And if he did do some meaningless flirting, he knew it would make its way back to Rogue and he had no desire to hurt her.

Gambit had then taken a walk in the cool air outdoors, occasionally using a lighted card to illuminate his way. An'zhina was quite dark at night during this time of the year. Gambit could have gotten more light if he'd grabbed one of the lanterns or flashlights from the supply room, but his cards were more than adequate for the task. Upon returning to his room, he saw that Rogue had still not come back and so he decided to go to sleep. As he removed his clothing, Gambit mused that he was, indeed, getting older. Years ago he had no trouble staying out till dawn and flirting with anything in a skirt. Now he was engaged to be married and the day they had set for their wedding was drawing closer. Dawn was many hours away and yet he was tired. Keeping track of ages became difficult when you lived most of your life in space, but by his own rough calculations, Gambit knew his thirtieth birthday had come and gone at some point during the last few months.

Gambit then settled in between the sheets. Life on An'zhina truly was a cut above life on board the starship. The sheets on board Freedom were made of materials like cotton and flannel whereas the bed sheets given the X-men on An'zhina were like silk. A very sensual man, Gambit enjoyed the feel. Despite his longing for Rogue, he easily drifted asleep.

Hours later, Gambit was woken up by the sound of crying. Instantly aware of his surroundings, he saw that Rogue lay beside him and was weeping bitterly. She was trying to muffle the sound, but her body was shaking with sobs, and the bed was trembling along with her.

"Chere," Gambit murmured, turning towards her and placing her arms around her. "Chere. What is wrong??"

She let him hug her and continued to cry as if someone dear to her heart had passed away. When she finally was composed enough to speak, she said, "Remy, I wish I'd never gone and done this with Xavier. Wish we'd left well enough alone. My memories were better off hidden."

"Chere, what is it?" Gambit whispered. "Do you want to talk bout it?"

"My parents abused me," Rogue said. "I---I know, we figured as much. But tonight I remembered the details."

For a long time, Rogue was too choked up to say anything more. Gambit got her some tissues, and she blew her nose and wiped her eyes with them. "I mean, we already knew as much," she repeated. "I think I always knew `bout that subconsciously. But tonight we looked at it and saw everything. Everything came back to me." The tissues piled up on the side of the bed.

"You want to tell me any of it?" Gambit asked.

Rogue shared some of the uncovered memories with Gambit. Both of her parents had physically and sexually abused her. Rogue also had remembered, for the first time, that she'd been sent to live with an Aunt for several years after her mother passed away. The Aunt was kind and gentle with her and perhaps the reason she had survived her childhood at all. But after a few years with her Aunt, her father wanted her back. Fortunately for Rogue, her mutant power manifested itself days after she returned to her father, rendering it impossible for him to touch her. He threw her out of the house, and she was found by Mystique.

"That's why I always had such good memories of her," Rogue said. Her voice was throaty and deep now. Sunlight streamed through the window of their room now, as she and Gambit sat on the bed together. "Mystique may've been horrible to so many people but not to me. And Xavier and I are sure now that's why my powers developed. To keep people from touching me."

The two were exhausted, having stayed up and talked with each other all night. They leaned back against the bedboards, too tired to sit up any longer. Gambit looked at Rogue after she'd been silent for a few minutes and realized she'd fallen asleep. Her head was slumped on his shoulder. Gently, he lowered her onto the pillows. She remained asleep.

Gambit looked at her, her eyes shut peacefully at last. No, he wasn't surprised at all. Way back when, after he'd known Rogue for just a few months, he'd suspected something along those lines. He also knew that many of their teammates had held whispered discussions on the same topic before. But Rogue had never wanted to talk about her past at all, and given that Gambit himself had much in his past that he didn't want to share with anyone, he'd respected that. So now it was out in the open for Rogue to deal with.

Before he drifted off to sleep, Gambit thought of something. Unbeknownst to him, the Professor had shared this with Rogue earlier that evening as well. As painful as this is, perhaps now they were nearing a stage where Rogue could begin to learn how to control her powers.

"Don't be upset, Scott. Christopher is healthy and well. What more could we ask for?"

"I know, Jean. I know. It's just that….that I can't believe it."

Cyclops and Jean walked back to their room from the infirmary. Jean held their three-day old son in her arms. After his examination, Christopher had promptly fallen back asleep. When they reached their room, Jean and Scott each planted a kiss on his face and set him down in his crib.

"I can't believe he's not a mutant," Scott said, slowly lowering himself to sitting on the bed. "How could the two of us have a baby and he turn out to not be a mutant?"

Jean shrugged. "Hank said it's possible. So little is known about this," she mused. "Still, I am surprised. For some reason, I assumed any children we'd have would automatically be mutants."

"Me too."

Jean ceased her train of thought there. She also recalled that the founder of the Friends of Humanity was not a mutant….but he had two mutant parents. Jean banished those thoughts from her mind and sat down next to Scott, holding his hand. Her mindlink opened up to him. "You're disappointed," she stated.

Silence for a moment. "I am," he finally admitted, knowing it would be pointless to try to hide that thought from her. Not that he really wanted to mask anything from her.

"Scott," she said softly. "We have a **healthy son**. There are families across the globe on earth who would give their right arm for that. Think of all the couples who cannot have children, or those who have children with serious medical problems. Or those who want a son but never get one. We have been blessed. There is no reason to be disappointed."

"I know. I know," he repeated. "It's not logical. It's probably better for him that he's not a mutant."

Jean's communicator beeped. Nightcrawler had volunteered to babysit Charlotte for a couple hours so that Jean and Scott could grab some precious rest. With a newborn and another young baby, sleep was a rare thing for the couple now and various X-men had been offering to help in any way. Besides, Charlotte was such a well-tempered baby that she was a dream to care for. Kurt's voice spoke over the communicator, "Jean, Charlotte seems very agitated. I don't know what to do….She is saying `Dada' a lot. Is Scott alright?"

"I'm fine," Scott said.

"We'll come pick her up," Jean said. She turned off her communicator and looked at Scott. "She wants to comfort you."

"I know."

The couple got up, knowing it would be alright to leave Christopher----they would only be gone for a minute. As they headed down the hall, a thought from Scott's mind leaked over into Jean's. "Don't even think it," she whispered to her husband, a chill running down her spine. "He will not turn out like Stephan."

Panda entered the infirmary, brining Hank his favorite drink. It was only a few hours after Jean and Scott had brought their infant in for testing and received the disappointing news that Christopher was not a mutant. She went up to him and kissed his head. "How about taking a break, Hank?"

"Soon, Jessica," he said to her, not taking his eyes off his work. Realizing that his abruptness might've hurt her, he turned around and reached for her hands. He grasped them. "You know how important this work is. Our best chance of being able to free mutants on earth is for us to fortify our cloaking device. I must determine why FOH can detect it and neutralize that. As I see it, the lives of mutants back on earth depend on this."

"I know, Hank," she said, squeezing his hands a bit.

"I have been preoccupied since our return with searching, in vain, for a cure for AIDS and then with assisting Jean in childbirth. Now that Lu has died and Christopher is born, I can re-dedicate myself to this work." Beast refrained from adding a disconcerting thought that had been on his mind frequently since the X-men had returned to An'zhina. No one else seemed to share his sense of urgency regarding this. Granted, he was the only scientist and unquestionably had one of –- if not **the** --- most brilliant minds on An'zhina. But the Professor was spending his days recuperating and assisting Rogue, along with anyone else who needed his help. And everyone seemed wrapped up in Lu's death, the birth of Jean and Scott's son, and Rogue and Gambit's upcoming wedding. The rescuees were being trained, mostly by Banshee with other X-men assisting, how to control and safely use their powers. But none of the rescuees seemed to care much about their brothers and sisters on earth.

"What are you thinking?" Panda asked him. She recalled a comedian she'd seen on television as a child, years ago. He had joked that a woman should never ask her man what he's thinking because oftentimes he's not thinking about much of anything at all. Panda knew with **her** particular lover, that was not a problem. If anything, the problem would be that his brilliant mind held so many thoughts at once. Some of which were incomprehensible to anyone with a normal IQ.

"I am thinking of how we X-men have changed and pondering the reason for that change." At Panda's inquisitive look, Hank continued on. "If we had the same mindset as we had years ago, I believe that everyone would have been eager to return to earth and rescue the other mutants. Yet now I detect a certain apathy from the others. I know the logical reasons----we have been preoccupied with Christopher's birth, Lu's death, and Rogue and Gambit's upcoming nuptials," he said, listing them out on his fingers. "And yet those things do not sufficiently explain it for me."

"Well, I wasn't a member of the team during the X-men's golden years," Panda began, "but maybe it's because no one is getting any younger. Maybe it's like….when I was in college, everyone I knew wanted to save the earth. We wanted to fix all the problems with war and pollution and such. We went on demonstrations and everything. I was kicked out of college for being a mutant, but I kept in contact with some of my older friends. Seems that once they got careers and bought houses, or got married and had children, they became more concerned with themselves and forgot about everything else."

"One would think that having children would increase your concern about the world around you," Hank said.

"You'd think so. But a lot of people got to the point where they're just struggling to pay the mortgage, hold down their jobs, and have some time to see their spouse or kids on the weekend."

"I think your point about us growing older is indeed valid," Hank began, "and I had not considered that before. However I suspect something else is at play as well. I think that the Friends of Humanity scarred us more than any other foe we encountered. I can see that our teammates have a visceral reaction to the very mention of FOH. We never had such a reaction to Magneto or the Sentinels or any other enemy we fought. After our experience with FOH, I believe we realize we are all fortunate to be alive, and we are less willing to risk death...or re-capture, which is potentially as bad."

"And yet the X-men have taken on FOH again. You've made three missions to earth to try to rescue your fellow mutants."

"We did it because we knew it was right," Hank said. "But you see no one---except perhaps Wolverine----is especially eager to set out again. I think that is partly due to the fact that we require a stronger cloaking device. But now I also understand why I sense less determination to set out than before on the part of the others."

Panda nodded. His words made sense. Panda saw that he seemed to be enjoying this break from his work, and hoped he would continue it. "It's too bad that Christopher's not a mutant," she said, after a pause. "Scott seemed disappointed."

"I am sure he will come to accept it." He turned and looked at Panda, studying her features that were so beautiful to him. "Do you want children someday?"

"Yes. And you?"

"Yes," Hank said. He had been thinking about it some.

"I just need to get you out of this laboratory more often," Panda smiled, reaching with a hand to scratch some of Hank's fur.

Hank returned her smile. More than once, she had happened upon him in the lab, late in the evening and had used some very persuasive tactics in getting him away from his work and into their bed. Once they had not even left the lab, leaving Hank to later muse how shocked any of his teammates might've been had they found them there. "We might pass along either of our mutations to any children we have," Hank speculated.

Panda withdrew her hand from his arm. "I know. Does that concern you?" She couldn't detect from his tone how he felt about it.

"A little. We have come to accept our unconventional appearances. But it was very difficult for both of us when we were growing up."

"Yes. But I now regard it as a blessing, Hank, because it brought us together."

Hank was so touched by her words that he leaned forward and kissed her mouth. He then shifted his position and brought his hands around to scratch her back, one of Panda's favorite sensations. "And if we remain on An'zhina for years to come, our children will be raised here," Hank said. "If they inherit our mutation, they will not face the degree of ostracization here as they would on earth."

Panda smiled, just enjoying the scratching he was doing. Silently, she reminded herself that she was the one who had made the first move to get him into bed. She might have to again make the first move. She started to think of a timeframe.

Countless light years away, the FOH soldier named Mark was eating dinner with his fellow soldiers in the mess hall of the Mutant Containment Center they were stationed at. One of his buddies bounded into the room holding a video camera. "I got a great idea!" the man announced to the group.

A few of the higher-ups heard about that soldier's idea. They loved it so much, that they went out and obtained two better quality video cameras. A new shipment of mutants was scheduled to arrive the following day, which made the timing perfect. FOH leadership at the camp invited all the soldiers to place bids to see who would get to star in their production.

Not long after the new shipment of mutants had arrived, the soldiers finished their videotape and were getting copies made. They had decided to film themselves gang raping a 15 year old mutant girl. They were calling the tape "Mutie's First Time", with the subtitle "Watch Her Bleed." They knew there was a market for such tapes and began to sell them.

Mark had seen too much in his young life to be shocked. It didn't even elicit the horror inside him that it should have. But an idea started to take shape in his mind.

It was a festive time on An'zhina. Virtually everyone was looking forward to Rogue and Gambit's wedding, though the date was still a few weeks away. They were giving it a bit more time so they could finalize the details and so Jean could rest and recover more from childbirth. Rogue strongly wanted her friend to participate as a bridesmaid, but also wanted Jean to have sufficient time to recoup her strength.

Meanwhile, Shaman's wife Silver Moon approached Storm one day. She told Storm that their 11 year old daughter Lily Pearl had experienced her first ever menstruation and among their Native peoples, that event was traditionally welcomed by a ceremony. Both Lily Pearl and her mother wanted such a ceremony to take place, and Silver Moon asked Storm to work with them on the preparations. Storm was happy to agree to it. Although most African tribes were patriarchal, a few of them were not and also practiced such ceremonies.

Adding to the merry atmosphere on An'zhina, one of the mutants rescued from the camp in England was a woman in her forties named Agata. She had been a dancer when she was younger, and later in life, a dance teacher. Her recovery was progressing well and she was becoming more outgoing, as she had been before her life in the camp. She decided to offer salsa lessons in one of the gymnasiums, and many people signed up. An'zhina's resident deejay Russ would be providing music.

"So, what do you say, mon amour? You want to sign up for the salsa lessons?"

"I dunno. We're both already good dancers."

"But I don't know how to **salsa**. Do you? It would be fun to learn."

"I guess so…."

"You sound like you really don't want to go. Why is that? I thought you loved dancing."

"I do. It's just that….Well, you know….People will say that we're throwing it in their faces and all if we dance together in public."

"Let them say whatever the hell they want. I don't care." Pause. "But you do, eh?"

"No, no, not at all. But….well, how are we going to dance? Salsa dancing requires one person to play the role of the man and the other play the role of the woman. So if we go along with that, people will be like, `Ah ha! So **this** shows us which one is the man in their relationship.'"

Sigh. "I don't really care what they say or think. But if it bothers you, we could always switch off. Take turns being the guy or the girl."

"I guess. But then we have to learn both parts. Salsa dancing isn't easy, I've heard."

'You know, forget it then, Bobby. Just forget it. I'll ask my sister if she's interested."

"I never imagined a weddin' would be so easy to plan. These replicators make everythin' so simple," Rogue enthused. She and Storm were taking a walk one morning. They flew to the other side of the moon, as far away from the main complex as possible and set down inside one of the forested areas to explore it on foot. Rogue had already seen most of it with Gambit one day, but she wanted to revisit the area.

"We are truly blessed. Perhaps a bit spoiled, even," Storm said, remembering that Lily Pearl's recent ceremony had been a breeze to prepare for as well. "I remember that Jean and Scott's wedding years ago required so much more preparation. But on An'zhina, everything is at our fingertips."

"Yeah, we're lucky. And your plans for the flower decorations are incredible, Storm. Just a few more weeks to go until the ceremony. I can hardly wait!" Rogue smiled and shook her head. "Bobby was so cute the other day when we asked him to be a groomsman. He looked so happy and he hugged us both." Rogue then changed the subject, "Hey, guess what Remy and I are doin'? We signed up for the salsa lessons!"

"Really?"

Rogue shrugged. "We thought it would be fun. It's been ages since we've done anything like that."  


"Truly. Remember when groups of us used to go out dancing? I cannot even recall the last time I have been to a club. The rec room on Freedom and the rec room here do not count."

"When's the last time we've watched TV or a movie?" Rogue asked rhetorically. "We haven't since we lived on earth." Indeed the X-men's lives consisted of simple pleasures. Their downtime was spent generally playing with the children, swimming, gardening, working out, taking walks, or just hanging and playing games in the rec room. Their rec room had the Endarian equivalent of a CD player, but television and movies were distant memories. "So we thought what Agata will be doing sounds like it'll be interesting," Rogue continued. "Since we gotta make our own fun around here. What about you, Storm? Interested in the dancing lessons?"

"I have indeed thought of it. I know that nothing in this world I do or say could get Wolverine to join me. But Agata said it is not required that you bring a partner. Perhaps I will show up and see what happens."

"Try it, sugar! I bet it'll be fun no matter what." Rogue then realized she might've lost track of time, as she and Storm had been walking for a while. She glanced at her watch.

"Do we have much more time?" Storm asked.

"Yeah. The Professor and I ain't meeting for more than an hour."

"Wonderful." Storm then paused and brought her voice down a notch. "How is it going?"

Aside from Gambit, Rogue had told only Storm of what she and Charles had uncovered during their sessions. "Well, lemme put it this way. The Professor says working through these memories is gonna make me a stronger person." Rogue shrugged. "I hope he's right. Though sometimes I feel so weak. There are nights where I wake up crying. I don't know what I'd do without Remy. I can't believe the stuff he puts up with from me."

"He loves you, Rogue. When you love someone, you are willing to do these things. I know Gambit well and I know he's glad you're dealing with this." As Storm said the words, a bird sprung off a nearby tree branch and took flight. The bird was a brilliant shade of blue, and Storm silently noted that she did not recall seeing that particular type of creature before. She resisted the urge to leap up after it for a better look.

"What don't kill you makes you stronger." Rogue smiled ruefully and shook her head. "Seems each of us X-men have had to live by that thought." A question then entered Rogue's mind. It had entered her mind many times before, and this time she decided to just get it out. After all, she and Storm were close friends and had been so for many years. And she recalled that months ago, the day after she and Remy had become engaged, she had tried to broach this very same topic with Storm. Rogue decided to bring it up again. "Storm, wouldya tell me somethin'? Sometimes I ain't the best at picking up this stuff but I get a feeling every now and then. Do you love Wolverine? I mean, don't give me the line about loving him as a friend and colleague. Are you **in love****** with him?"

Storm was silent. A cool breeze wafted through the air as Rogue then hastily added, "I hope you don't think I'm bein' nosy. Just that we've been friends for so long. And I always feel like I'm pouring my soul out to you. I figure that you might like to do the same every now and then. `Cause I don't see you ever doin' that with anyone."

"Well, I keep a journal," Storm said. As she and Rogue walked, the crackle of branches and leaves being stepped on could be heard.

"Okay. But doncha ever wanna confide in anyone? Like, another human being?"

"I find journal writing and praying to the Goddess to be sufficient." Storm stopped walking, turned and looked intently at Rogue's emerald green eyes. "Why do you want to know how I feel about Wolverine, Rogue? What does it matter?"

"I wanna know 'cause I'm your friend. And lately…you've seemed a bit down. Sometimes I've seen the two of you in the same room together and I see a look on your face…." Rogue allowed her voice to trail off. She had no desire to cajole Storm, and she did not want to appear to be snooping around in her friend's private business.

Storm, however, knew that Rogue's concern was sincere, motivated by her caring. "I do not mind confiding in you," she said, reaching for one of Rogue's gloved hands and holding it. They resumed walking. "I know you will keep everything I say confidential, and I think perhaps you are right that it is good to open up to our friends." Storm paused and then spread her hands in a helpless gesture, "Yes, I do have some feelings for Logan. But it is fairly useless to mull over this anymore. He does not return my feelings."

"Are you sure of that?" Rogue asked. Gambit had told her about some of the conversations he'd had with Wolverine while they were imprisoned by the Cetians. Gambit had tried to coax Wolverine into admitting that he loved Storm, but Wolverine wouldn't budge. He kept insisting that Jean possessed his heart, not Storm. Gambit wasn't so certain. "I mean," Rogue continued, "maybe Logan's just being a bull-headed prick. Maybe he just won't admit how he feels about you."

Storm shrugged, "As I have said to myself many times before, love cannot be forced. I cannot go up to him, bang my fist on a table and demand that he stop wishing Jean were his and love me instead."

"I dunno. I think he needs a bucket of cold water thrown on his head."

"Rogue," Storm said, a strong note of caution in her voice.

"I promise not to say anything! But he needs to wake up and smell the coffee. Any man would be damned lucky to have you. I love Logan but I think he's being a blasted fool." Storm did not respond to Rogue's declaration. Rogue then tilted her head to one side. "I wonder what it is. Is it that he really thinks Jean can be his someday? Jean, who's married with two kids. Nah, Logan's a realist. He's gotta know a snowball has a better chance in hell than Jean ever leaving Cyke. Or is it….hey, Storm, do you think it's that Logan like….needs to be needed? Like, he needs a woman who's gotta show some vulnerability, show that she needs him?"

"Perhaps initially, but I would think that after a while it would irritate him." Storm sighed. "Whatever the case, I won't change myself for him. I will not play the role of the clingy, helpless damsel. If that is truly what he wants, then I do not want him."

"If you got another man, bet then he'd wake up and see what he was losing," Rogue said.

"I will not stoop to such ridiculous games as Angel tried to play with Psylocke. Using Jubilee to try to make Psylocke jealous," Storm said, shaking her head.

"I know. That wasn't right to drag Jubilee into that. I'm so glad that girl came to her senses and saw what Angel was after."

"Indeed Jubilee did come to her senses. And she reached that realization herself, without Logan or I saying anything to her. I am proud of her. But regardless, I would not use such a manipulative tactic, even if I thought that it might work."

Storm looked up and noted that the bright Endarian sun shone high in the sky. It was not as brilliant as usual that particular day as myriad clouds blocked its view, but it reminded Storm that the day was progressing.

"We still have time before my appointment," Rogue said, noting the direction of her friend's gaze and then glimpsing at her watch. "Poor Professor. You know how busy he is."

Storm nodded. "And he is supposed to be relaxing. However, he still looks tired." In addition to working with Rogue, Xavier was counseling three other mutants on a regular basis. One of those others was Psylocke. He and Psylocke had had a discussion regarding her destruction of two FOH ships. In addition to suspending her from the X-men for one year, the Professor mandated that she enter counseling with him. Betsy tended to spend most of her sessions saying nothing, but Xavier hoped she would work with him.

When it was time for Rogue's session with Xavier, both she and Storm sprang into flight and sped back to the other side of An'zhina.

The time on An'zhina just flew by. I think everyone, myself included, was enjoying this vacation. Well, grumpy Wolverine was off by himself a lot and no one saw him much. And Hank was spending most of his days in the lab but groups consisting of Panda, Jean-Paul, Jubilee and I were known to abduct him on occasion and force him to go to the beach with us. We would have a great time and revive our tradition of brushing out Hank's (and Panda's) fur. Neither, however, allowed me to put bows in their pelts. : ( But seriously, Hank told us that his work with the cloaking device "is not yielding encouraging results."

One morning, Jean-Paul and I were having breakfast, sitting with Jubilee and Rory.

"The salsa lessons are great!" Jubilee enthused.

I wished she hadn't brought up a semi-sore subject for Jean-Paul and I, but my lover just smiled and said, "You're a good dancer, Jubilee. And for a Chinese girl, you salsa well."

"Yeah, well for a French-Canadian, you're not bad yourself," she shot back at him, returning his grin. Then Jubilee turned to me, "You're missing something fun."

I smiled, "Hey, be glad I'm not taking lessons---otherwise you'd be short one babysitter." I reached over for Rory and gave her a caress. She returned my affection. Of course the major downside was that Jeanne-Marie sometimes asked me to look after Stephan and keep the boy out of mischief. Easier said than done. I'd way rather babysit Rory.

"Yeah, but you should sign up," Jubilee said. "Storm needs a partner."

"I can't believe a woman that beautiful would have any trouble finding someone to dance with," I said, looking around the dining room. We were mostly alone; no one else sat at any nearby tables though a few other people were milling about. I hadn't wanted anyone to overhear that.

"Actually, mon ami, she does," Jean-Paul said. "At the start of each session, Agata lines up everyone who doesn't have a partner and just matches them with someone. You can see how nervous the guys are to be paired up with Storm. They look around, hoping it won't be them that Agata places with her. Fortunately for them, the girls outnumber them by a few and Storm usually ends up with a female partner."

I shook my head. "It takes no sense. She's one of the most gentle and kind people I've ever met."

"You say that now, but didn't you used to be intimidated by her yourself?" Jean-Paul asked. I had told him as much once before, and I nodded then. "Look, she is strikingly beautiful, taller than half the men, strong, and…queenly. And she's one of the leaders of the X-men. I tell you, the guys are intimidated by her."

Jubilee joked, "I guess we'll just need to get Wolvie to take up salsa lessons then!"

"I think we might have more luck getting the Professor to," I quipped.

"I would partner with her," Jean-Paul said, still looking serious and not on the joking level that Jubilee and I were at, "but my sister will touch only me among the men."

I nodded, my mood turning to match Jean-Paul's. He had recently told me that Jeanne-Marie said she was absolutely finished with men, given what she'd lived through at the hands of FOH. She'd said that she had "no desire to see an erect penis ever again."

"Just another six days until Rogue and Gambit's wedding!" Jubilee enthused after a bit. "I've never been in a wedding before."

"Me neither," I said. "I'm very excited for them."

We finished our breakfast up, and Jean-Paul stood. Looking at me, he said, "I'm going to get the mat and move the bed. Don't forget the….you know."

He said a quick goodbye and then was gone in a flash. "And…may I ask what that was about?" Jubilee asked, sounding curious.

"Well," I began, my cheeks turning a bit red, "um, Jean-Paul and I decided to wrestle each other. In one of our rooms, of course."

"I see…Any normal wrestling competition takes place inside people's rooms instead of the gym, of course. And does the winner get a prize, hmmm?" Jubilee asked, her tone indicating she knew full well what was going to follow the wrestling.

I returned her smile. "Um, yes. And….let's just say that I hope I lose!"

Chapter 8

Chapter 10 


	10. Chapter 10

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 10

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 10

Back on earth, Elaine Grey sat looking at her most treasured photograph. It was not a picture of her wedding day more than forty years ago, nor was it a picture of her at her college graduation, or of her with her firstborn. The cherished photograph had miraculously appeared on the kitchen table a few months ago, when the X-men had been near earth. It was a picture of Jean, Scott, and a baby. Written on the back of the photo were the words: "Jean and Scott with Charlotte Lynn. All safe and sound."

Though the season was summer, Elaine had draped a sweater over her shoulders which she wrapped more tightly about her. The main level of the house was freezing with the air conditioning turned up so high. They wanted to keep the attic as cool as possible.

Elaine's husband John entered the room, slowly descending from the attic with a tray under one arm. He was at the age where ascending and descending stairs was not an easy task for his aching joints. He made his way over to Elaine and looked at her as she sat on the recliner with the photograph in hand.

"Where are you, Jean?" Elaine said aloud as her eyes remained fixed on the picture. "We need you now more than ever."

John sat down next to his wife. "What I wouldn't give to see her again. And to talk to Xavier."

John and Elaine's other daughter, Sara, was in the process of a divorce. Her marriage to Tom had been sliding downhill for years now, and it had become worse in the last three months. Both of their children had been discovered to be mutants, their mutant differences manifesting themselves just weeks apart from each other. Tom wanted no part of them any more. He'd cursed Sara, saying he knew he should've never married the sister of a mutant.

Sara and Tom's son, Joey, looked as normal as any other child. However, he had the ability to see through most substances, a power which he had no idea how to control. Joey spent most of the day with his eyes bandaged shut; he was too distressed by the multiple images he saw overlapping constantly.

Their daughter Gail had an even more obvious mutation. Her skin had turned a shade of sea foam green, and she sprouted a few ridges from her face, head, and back. Sara wasn't sure what the ridges were composed of. Obviously, they hadn't taken Gail to a doctor or scientist to find out. With anti-mutant hysteria at a fever pitch, seeking outside help was not an option as the family had no idea how to find someone who might be sympathetic. Most of the known mutant sympathizers, such as Dr. Moira MacTaggert and Dr. Veena Qadir, were conspicuously missing.

The children had been pulled out of school under the pretense that they were being home schooled by their mother. Sara and the children had moved in with John and Elaine as the stress of the situation was making it difficult for Sara to hold down her job. Tom refused to send any child support; he even claimed that the children weren't his and he threatened on more than one occasion to report the two "freaks." He didn't send Sara a dime from the sale of their house, even though she had worked and saved for years as he had.

Sara was unable to pursue legal recourse against him. If Tom reported them, they would be done for. The Friends of Humanity, who's billions of dollars ensured the US government was wrapped around its fingers, would seize them and place them inside a Mutant Containment Center. Of course the additional risks that John and Elaine Grey were taking did not help to calm Sara either. She trembled every time the phone rang or the doorbell sounded.

And she prayed that her sister, and the other X-men, would miraculously re-appear someday. They could be Gail and Joey's only hope.

John glanced over his wife's shoulder at the picture of Jean, Scott, and the baby who apparently was their third grandchild. `Safe and sound,' Jean had written on the back of the photograph. At least they were fairly certain that the handwriting matched Jean's.

John didn't know why, but he found himself remembering the first time he ever met Scott Summers. For weeks (or was it months?) Jean had been gushing over the man she was seeing, her fellow student at the Xavier Institute for the Gifted. She carefully had explained the nature of his mutation and that he'd be wearing protective eyewear.

Scott had won over both John and Elaine with his good manners, politeness and the fact that he obviously worshipped their daughter. But the most lasting impression John had was how nervous Scott had been. And how Scott had spilt the gravy all over his white shirt.

John chuckled to himself at that memory. Elaine shot him a questioning look. They didn't have much to laugh about lately. They could only hope that things changed before they were discovered to be harboring mutants---their two grandchildren plus the two mutants they were hiding in their attic. One of the two had sought out the Greys, knowing their daughter was one of the X-men. This mutant had been helped by the X-men years before and he had come to the Greys, hoping and begging for a safe harbor. They had not the heart to turn him away.

That very same moment, millions of light years away, Jean Grey sat nursing her young son. She decided that this was perhaps one of her favorite things about motherhood. She was able to sit and nourish her baby in a way that only she was capable of doing. She had loved these moments with Charlotte too as they'd bonded together. She felt an undeniable twinge of….sympathy, perhaps, for Scott who was unable to physically do this. Of course he bonded with the children in other ways, playing with and reading to Charlotte every day and now with Christopher, holding and cooing to him all the time. But nothing really compared to breast feeding, at least not in Jean's mind.

Scott was so careful in how he approached spending time with the kids----ensuring his attention was almost equally divided between the two, as if he worried Charlotte could get jealous. She wasn't jealous, though; Jean could sense it. Mostly, Charlotte was intrigued by her baby brother.

A memory suddenly popped into Jean's mind. She could see it as if it were yesterday. She was recalling the first time she took Scott to meet her parents. During the entire drive to their house, Jean had to concentrate on feeding reassuring emotions to Scott since his nervousness was radiating off him in waves. It was on a par with anything they felt going up against Magneto. "They'll like you, Scott," Jean had said. "All you need to do is be yourself."

After sitting in the Grey's living room and chatting, the four had settled down to eat. //They like you.// Jean had 'told' him as they passed plates around. Though early in their relationship, Jean and Scott already had a mindlink established. //They like you a lot.//

//Really?// Scott had asked. //I am **so** relieved.// And mere seconds after that thought, Scott had managed to spill gravy on his shirt, with flecks of it falling onto the white table cloth. Suddenly mortification had replaced all his other emotions.

"Okay, what is so funny?" Scott asked, smiling as he entered the room with Charlotte in his arms.

Jean returned his grin, "Nothing, nothing, my love. Just doing some reminiscing."

Charlotte spoke, "Brother tired."

Scott shook his head in amazement and looked at Charlotte. "You are brilliant, my sweetheart. Brilliant!" He turned to Jean. "How can she be talking so much so early?"

"It must be all those books we read to her. Right, sugar plum?" she asked, looking at Charlotte. She then looked back down at Christopher. "And she's right about her brother. He's done with this meal and ready to sleep again."

Jean placed Christopher over the clean cloth diaper that was draper over a shoulder and burped him. He promptly spit up as well. "Messy!" Charlotte exclaimed. Smiling at her daughter's comment, Jean rose and placed Christopher inside his crib. The baby was asleep in no time. Scott and Jean looked down at him inside the crib, Scott still holding Charlotte.

"I wish his grandparents could see him," Jean mused. "And Charlotte. It's so hard to be away from them. I haven't seen my parents or sister for so long."

"I know," Scott said softly. "But at least they know that we're alive and safe. They got that photograph."

"I always try to think of the positive. I miss them terribly, but thank God that we're all together," she said, resting her head against Scott's shoulder. She tightened her grip on her husband and a thought ran through her mind. //It's been almost four weeks since Christopher's birth. My body is completely healed now.//

The thought echoed loud and clear inside Scott's head. He knew just where she was going with that.

Soon, Charlotte was placed down for a nap as well. It was a little earlier than the girl's usual nap time, but the always agreeable baby consented to it.

"I love you, Scott," Jean murmured as Scott took her in his arms.

"I love you too," Scott said to her, his heart swelling with the affection and passion he felt for his wife. He was excited. It had been far too long for them to go without making love. He breathed in the scent of her as he felt the warmth of their hug. Jean's favorite fragrance on earth had been that of lily. Jean had found a flower on An'zhina that was quite similar and the enticing scent lingered in her hair now.

Jean broke off the embrace to walk over towards the bedside table. She removed a packet of condoms. "We have to remember to use one of these," she said, wanting to have it ready. (Jean planned on going on the Pill, which Hank had recently learned how to replicate, but couldn't until she was no longer breastfeeding.)

Scott nodded, glancing at the packet and trying to not be concerned. They'd never used that particular method of birth control before, but he knew what Jean said was right. Weeks after Charlotte had been born, they'd resumed lovemaking without using any contraception. Jean's mother had told her years ago that it is highly unlikely that a woman can conceive while in the stage of breast feeding another baby. Yet sure enough, Christopher had been conceived when Charlotte was about six months old. This time, they could not take another chance.

Those types of practical thoughts were soon light years away from Jean's mind. As soon as her lips were moving against Scott's, all she could think of was how perfectly wonderful making love with her soulmate was. She could scarcely wait. Although they held and cuddled each other all the time, lovemaking was a special way for them to bond. That exquisite pleasure had been denied them for a while. No more.

On instinct Scott reached for Jean's breasts before remembering. They were sore from breast feeding and he was not to touch or kiss them. Scott would have to be content to look at her beautiful, full breasts. Jean saw the abortive gesture and smiled. She held his hands and guided them to other places on her body which were ripe for stroking.

After not long, Scott was laying on his back, Jean blazing a trail of kisses around and down his neck, shoulders, arms, and chest. Their mindlink was completely open. As she nuzzled his belly and kissed it, she experienced the same sensations that he did. She felt his excitement and eagerness, mixed with passion and abject love. Caressing his arms again, Jean ruminated about how strong and gentle a man Scott Summers was. His calmness and strength were sometimes overlooked in the presence of more boisterous men.

"Oh!" Scott exclaimed. Jean's mouth had reached his cock and was licking it up and down. She felt his delight mixed with a twinge of guilt. She knew he occasionally felt shame for enjoying this, though it wasn't the least bit logical. A hand cupped and massaged his balls as she worked her mouth up and down.

//I haven't been able to do this for months// Jean's thoughts conveyed, knowing she would need to reassure him. //You're not going to deprive me, are you?//

"O--of course not," Scott managed to say. He eased into it and allowed himself to enjoy what Jean was doing to him.

Suddenly, the couple was interrupted. Christopher had awoken from his nap and began to cry. Scott bolted upright, alarmed.

Jean raised her head and looked towards the crib. She didn't delay long before making her decision. "This might be a tad unethical, but….." Touching her hand to her temple, she used her powers to quiet the baby and coax him back to sleep. "Now where was I?" Jean murmured, enveloping Scott within her mouth once more.

With their mindlink open, the experience was a bit uncanny. She felt what he felt. Her body was reacting as if someone were licking her clit. She felt the wetness and the pressure. Jean also knew when to cease her activity, doing so at the right moment.

Soon, Jean was laying on her back, having communicated to Scott that she didn't want him to reciprocate; she just wanted him inside of her. Scott had clumsily rolled the condom on, his hands shaking. As he thrust inside her, Jean moved her hips to match him, cupping his buttocks. She read the thoughts careening through his mind. `She's a goddess, I love her, I'm blessed to have her, I'm so lucky….' He also was thinking of how much he adored being able to make love face-to-face once again. And there were remnants of the thought that had stubbornly remained inside Scott for years after they became a couple: `I don't deserve her.' That last thought had been banished a while ago but it still could be detected, lurking around in the recesses of Scott's mind.

Their bodies moving as one, Jean and Scott climaxed one after the other. Except it felt like orgasming twice; when their link was this strong, each felt what the other felt. They remained moving their hips together as long as possible. Jean mused that the link and the closeness they shared were almost overwhelming.

If Jean-Paul and I weren't already on the Shit List belonging to Scott Summers, we now have solidified our place there. One day during dinner, he and I were eating together in the very crowded dining room. It was one of the rare rainy days and few people were outside of the main complex. So around dinner time, the dining hall was even more flooded than usual.

Scott entered the room, holding Charlotte (as well as her food). I realized that we hadn't seen Scott much since the mediation. I don't think he was avoiding us or anything like that; I'm sure it had more to do with the fact that he and Jean had their hands full with the babies. Scott scanned the room for an empty seat, and the one near Jean-Paul and I was one of the available few. I spotted him looking around and walking towards our table, and I helped him by pulling up a high chair and bringing it over. "We'll keep an eye on her," I offered, "Go ahead and get your dinner." So Scott got in line and returned to the table, carrying a plate of food for himself. Jean-Paul and I were mostly finished with our meals by then.

Everything started out well enough. As Jean-Paul and I ate our desserts (mine consisting of ice cream and his of fruit), Scott took turns spoon feeding Charlotte and taking bites of him own food. As he did so, he made pleasant conversation with Jean-Paul and I, asking us how we were doing and such. Jean-Paul and I ooohh-ed and ahhh-ed over Charlotte; we both love her. What a sweet natured baby she is.

"Where's Jean?" Jean-Paul asked.

"She's taking a nap. Christopher is napping right now, and she tries to sleep when he does," Scott said.

"How's he sleeping?" I asked.

Scott smiled and shook his head. "Oh, he's only waking up about three times a night now. Sometimes Charlotte wakes up with him. Jean says Charlotte gets concerned that something's wrong with him, but once she realizes he's okay, Charlotte relaxes and goes right back to sleep."

"She's quite an amazing girl," I said, looking at Charlotte. She looked back at me and smiled.

I don't recall exactly how we got onto the topic, but Scott started asking me about my childhood and my family situation growing up. We were discussing children and babies, so maybe the subject matter just flowed from there at some point. And believe it or not, Scott and I had never really discussed this much at length before. He's spent most of the last year or so on An'zhina while I've been on missions to and from earth. Even while he was on the rescue mission to free me from Ceti, we didn't talk a whole lot on the return trip. Even backing up to the time we spent on the Paradise Planet, Scott and I had never really sat down and talked much about my past. He'd been occupied with Charlotte's arrival and with the engineering team back then. Plus he and I had never been the best of friends anyway.

So anyway, I started telling Scott a bit about my family situation. I told him that both my parents worked, and that I had two older brothers. "My oldest brother is ten years older than me and the next one eight years older." I forced a smile. "I think I was a mistake." I went on to say that I wasn't all that close to either of my brothers----or my parents for that matter. I didn't much feel like describing when I'd been kicked out so I kinda left it off there. Scott just said a few words, like thanking me for talking about it, etc.

Scott then asked Jean-Paul about his parents and upbringing. "If you don't mind," Scott said courteously, "I'd be interested in hearing about it too."

So Jean-Paul talked a bit about growing up in a circus (literally) and being a twin. He said that because his parents lived among circus "freaks" they were not really prejudiced against mutants or gays. Jean-Paul spoke about the special bond he and his sister have always shared. "Jeanne-Marie and I were close to our parents too," he added.

Then Scott asked something to the effect of seeking more information about Jean-Paul's relationship with his parents. I don't remember exactly how he asked it but it was tactful, of course.

Jean-Paul furrowed his brows. "Why do you want to know all this, Scott?" he asked. "Are you trying to avoid Christopher becoming like Bobby and I?"

I was taken aback by the hostility in Jean-Paul's voice. Especially since I hadn't really detected anything beyond curiosity in Scott's questions. I certainly had detected no animus from him.

Scott looked pretty surprised too. "What are you talking about?" he asked. Gone was the friendliness. His tone now matched Jean-Paul's anger. "I just wanted to hear about this. I can barely remember my own family and just wanted to talk to two people who had been raised in one."

"I can't help but to think you're asking us for tips on making sure Christopher doesn't turn out to be a homosexual."

"That's ridiculous! It didn't even cross my mind."

I didn't know what to say. I thought Jean-Paul was probably off base here, but I wasn't about to take Scott's "side" either. I held up my hands, "Hey, c'mon you two. Just chill," I said.

Charlotte started crying. I was surprised since she's usually so even-tempered. "No fight!" she said. Scott rushed to her side, comforting and cooing to her.

"Excuse us," Jean-Paul said curtly, standing up to go. I followed him.

That incident really didn't help our relations with Scott one bit.

By the time the day arrived, I think I was almost as excited as Rogue and Gambit. We'd been back on An'zhina for roughly two months, and at last it was time for their wedding!

I was so honored when Remy and Rogue approached me one day and asked me to be a groomsman. It would be my first time in a wedding! I remember well that afternoon, getting ready with the others.

The wedding ceremony was to be held outdoors. The weather that day was beautiful, as it usually was on An'zhina. Of course, if it was going to be one of our rare rainy or cold days, Storm could have intervened---but there was no need that day.

The groom and his groomsmen were getting dressed inside a conference room of the main building. Hank and Wolverine were the other groomsmen, and what an interesting picture we three must have made. Although a bridesmaid, Jubilee was doing double-duty, acting as one of the photographers. (Panda was the other. I hadn't known it but apparently she had a thing for photography.) Jubilee asked us if she could come in and photograph us, and of course we agreed. So the pictures showed a huge blue furry guy standing next to a short and squat hairy guy who was standing next to an average looking slender guy.

And then there was the groom. Remy looked, well, worth drooling over. He was gorgeous. He wore a black tux, adorned with a single black-red rose. His cravat and waist-coat were wine-red. The color combinations brought out his eyes so well. His hair was pulled back into a pony tail which was held in an ornate gold clasp. "You look wonderful," I told him, my eyes wide, when I first saw him all dressed up.

He grabbed my shoulders and kissed my mouth! I think he was just really happy that day.

Oh, as for us groomsmen, we had similarly styled tuxes but light charcoal colored. We had green and blue cravats, and blue and white flowers on our lapels.

As we put the finishing touches on our flowers, the mood was jubilant. Even the old grump seemed happy, though I did hear him mutter a comment when Gambit was out of the room. I don't know what specifically he and Hank were talking about, but Wolverine grumbled something about the X-men having become "a damn dance troupe." I'm sure it was a reference to the infamous salsa dancing lessons.

Once the four of us were dressed, there was nothing to do but wait. It was too early to head to the altar and Panda told us that the bride and her party were still getting ready. She also reassured Remy that she was taking loads of pictures. Panda had us come out and pose with a variety of different backgrounds.

"You nervous, Gumbo?" I heard Wolverine ask.

"No. Jus' happier den I ever been."

Jubilee entered the room in which Rogue and the rest of the bridal party were preparing. "I can't walk in these heels!" she exclaimed, setting the camera down and flinging off her shoes. Her daughter Aurora was inside the room with the other women and rushed up to Jubilee when she entered. Jubilee embraced her.

Storm smiled at Jubilee. "You did not need to replicate a pair of **three inch** heels."

"Well, I'm not wearing them!" Relaxed now that her feet were feeling some relief, Jubilee approached Rogue and told her, "I got tons of pictures. And Panda's goin' crazy with her camera. You and Gambit will be filling photo albums for the next three months!"

Rogue smiled, "Thank you, sugar." She was sitting in front of a mirror, Storm and Jean assisting her with make-up and hair. Lily Pearl was also in the room getting ready and Jeanne-Marie was there too, graciously helping keep an eye on Charlotte and Aurora. Her own child, Stephan, was out roaming around. Christopher was sleeping in a crib inside the room, oblivious to the activity which buzzed around him.

The bridesmaids were to wear dresses of a very light green hue. The varieties of flowers available on An'zhina were different than those on earth, but they were to carry bouquets of flowers resembling blue roses and white Baby's Breath.

"You gonna put your dress on, Jean?" Jubilee asked.

Jean was wearing a robe over her underwear. Her gown hung inside a closet, and she was the only one not dressed yet. "I'm trying to get the timing just right," Jean said. "I'm trying to wait until the last possible minute to feed Christopher. Then I can get dressed and I should be able to make it through the ceremony without there being a problem. He likes to be fed about every three and a half hours," Jean said.

"Then I am sure it will be just fine," Storm said. "The actual ceremony itself can't be more than an hour."

"I know. But you never know what might happen. Scott's going to hold the baby during the ceremony. If Chris wakes up and starts to cry, he's going to take him away. I do worry that if Scott doesn't get Chris out of earshot soon enough, I'll start to…." she gestured towards her bosom, "leak." Upon seeing Rogue's smile, Jean jokingly added, "Just you wait and see when you have children, you might experience the same thing."

Jubilee said, "I remember after Charlotte was born, there were a few times when Rory was napping but Charlotte would awake and start crying. Sometimes I'd hear her and…sure enough some drops of milk would come out. But you know you just kinda hug yourself and it'll stop."

Jeanne-Marie spoke up from the side of the room. "You know, I found that since I had Stephan, my breasts now get so sore during my period. That never happened before I was a mom. Do either of you experience that now?"

Jean shook her head. "No," Jubilee answered. "Thank god," she added, "since the cramps are bad enough themselves."

"Hey, Jean, couldn't you use your powers on Christopher?" Rogue asked. "To keep him from crying? I mean, not that I'd mind so much if the ceremony got interrupted but to keep you from….leaking on your dress."

"I am considering it."

Jean then stepped back from the blush she was applying to the bride and looked at Rogue, admiring her wedding gown and how beautiful she looked. The dress was of a simple design, formfitting at the bodice area and flaring slightly at the legs. The straps on the dress were thin and the color was off-white as Rogue's skin tone was too pale for pure white.

"What do you think of your make-up?" Jean asked.

Rogue surveyed her image in the mirror. "Looks good. But what about this hair?" Rogue had been trying to arrange it in an alluring up-swept style.

"I think you should wear it loose and free," Storm said. "You know that Remy loves your flowing curls."

"But he sees me with my hair like that every day."

"Yes, and it looks beautiful." She then said, slowly, "You are beautiful."

Jubilee and Jean gathered around Rogue and voiced their agreement with Storm. "Alright, alright, I'll go with what y'all say," Rogue said, looking at the three women standing around her. "Down it is." Rogue then looked at her friends and felt their warmth and love flooding her. "What would I do without you?" she asked.

"What would any of us do without the rest of her family?" Storm asked.

Overcome with a sudden rush of emotions, Rogue swallowed a lump in her throat. Jean had forewarned her that wedding days often call forth all sorts of feelings. "I'm gonna get all mooshy here. I think of everything we've been through all these years," Rogue said. "Everything we've survived together and I can't believe we're all together on this happy day now…." She broke off her sentence, not wanting to cry and cause any of her make-up to run. Instead Rogue stepped up from her chair and fell into a group hug

Charlotte watched the women and happily clapped her hands together, feeling all of their joyous, intense, and excited emotions coursing through her as well.

I stuck my head out of the room we'd been getting ready in. I had to have a peek at the place outside where the ceremony would be. Needless to say, everyone on An'zhina was invited. So people were choosing seats among the rows of chairs. The chairs faced a gorgeous arch, decorated with greenery and flowers selected by Storm. Storm really had outdone herself with all of the flower decorations. The color scheme of all the decorations were green and white with some wine red too.

Storm gave us the signal, and the groom and those of us in his party assembled near the front of the arch. Kurt stood up there with us and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. I couldn't recall ever seeing everyone all dressed up like this. I hadn't attended Scott and Jean's wedding years ago. It was just strange seeing so many people with blue skin or with strange hair colors or things growing out of their skin all dressed up in their finest this day.

I then silently reprimanded myself for noticing that. I know I'm about as "normal"- looking as most mutants are (when I'm not covered in ice----and I have complete control over that). There have always been rumblings about a sort of classism among mutants; the mutants who can "pass" as non-mutants being ranked over those who looked unusual. I hoped that wouldn't be the case on An'zhina, that we could lose our conditioning on that. I know that they discuss that subject at length during the classes that Cyclops and the others had been conducting for the rescuees.

But back to the wedding. I spotted Jean-Paul sitting next to his sister and nephew. I'd been so wrapped up in helping with things that I'd hardly checked in with him all day. He looked very handsome in a suit. He caught my eye and blew a kiss my way. I smiled back at him as my heart did a little dance.

Before I knew it, Russ (our deejay-music man) had cued up the wedding march. Everyone ceased their conversations and sat up straighter. People began craning their heads to watch the wedding party walk up the aisle. From my vantage point at the front of the altar, in between Hank and Wolverine, I had a great view.

Lily Pearl's name suited her well that day since she was one of the flower girls. Charlotte and Aurora were also flower girls. Lily Pearl helped them proceed up the aisle, though they needed very little help; they seemed to know where to go. They were so cute in their light green dresses. I hadn't ever seen the girls dressed up like that before.

Jubilee and Jean walked up the aisle next. I marveled at how beautiful Jubilee looked. (Jean, of course, was one of the most gorgeous women to ever walk the face of the earth so I don't need to say anything more. And that green color on her was stunning.) But Jubilee really had blossomed. She also was growing her hair a bit longer and it looked lovely with her bangs.

As the maid of honor (and best man), Storm walked up soon behind Jubilee and Jean. She held a bouquet in one hand and a jewelry box in the other.

And then finally, Rogue and the Professor. The Professor had his chair hovering at a level where he could hold Rogue's gloved hand, and he really looked royal and dignified in his tuxedo. I thought fleetingly of how much I loved him, how he was much more of a father to me than my biological father had ever been. He was so much a father to us all.

And Rogue. What can I saw about her? She was really beautiful. I thought her dress was very pretty, and her veil lovely. It was long, oval-shaped and lacy. In the front it came to just below her chest, and then it cascaded to a small train of about eight inches. I glanced at Remy and I can't think of quite the right words to described how he looked when he saw her. Maybe some combination of awe, elation, and love. When they stood next to each other, they made such a striking and attractive couple.

Then Kurt started the wedding ceremony. I don't remember well the religious part. I'd been surprised to learn that Gambit had been raised Catholic and though he probably didn't practice it to the letter (in fact, I'd bet that if he ever went to confession, he'd have a long list), it was fitting since Kurt was a Catholic priest.

When it came time for the vows, Rogue and Remy each read their own that they had each written. I thought that was so cool! I don't remember the words verbatim. But I do recall bits and pieces of what they said.

"Remy, I thank my lucky stars every day for you and I am so honored that you asked me to marry you," Rogue said. Her hands trembled as she read the piece of paper that the vows were written on. She told us that she was too nervous to trust the words to memory so she was going to read them. "Throughout all the years we've been together, you've always been so patient with me and so loving. You helped me learn to take risks by learning to open up and trust. You helped me live life to the fullest." By then, her voice was quivering and you could tell she was gulping back tears. Gambit held her hand and they just gazed into each other's eyes for the longest time.

Then Gambit read his vows. They were more traditional, and he talked about loving her "with all my heart and all my mind and all my soul." He vowed to be with her for the rest of eternity. It was really beautiful what he said, and he did it all from memory.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," Kurt finally said. He then turned to Gambit and said, "You may kiss the bride."

And then a surprised murmur rumbled through the crowd. Rogue and Gambit stepped towards each other for a kiss. My heart skipped a beat when I realized what they were going to do. Rogue had no collar on! I looked at Hank, and his expression was as dumbfounded as mine.

They kissed! With Rogue not wearing a collar! Once the kiss was over (and it was not a quick one), the smiling couple turned and faced everyone. "I been working with the Professor for a while now," Rogue told the shocked crowd. "We been working pretty intensely the last coupla weeks. I've got my power under control now. I can touch people without the collar."

After the wedding ceremony, the reception began. Most citizens of An'zhina had volunteered to help set up---some of them replicated food and brought it outside, others set up tables and chairs, Russ prepared the music.

The bride and groom ate at a table with the other members of the wedding party (with Scott, Panda, and Northstar having joined them.) "I could tell you had a surprise for us," Jean Grey was saying to Rogue. "But I didn't want to ask what it was. I was very surprised when you were able to kiss. You must've progressed so much."

"Indeed, Rogue, you have come very far," the Professor said. "Both as a person and in terms of controlling your powers. I am so proud of you." He turned to Gambit. "And you too, Gambit, have come so far. As your teacher, this has been very inspiring for me."

"Awww, shucks, Professor," Rogue managed, blushing. Her head was swimming. She was thrilled that everyone now knew and appreciated this milestone. But the excitement of being married to Gambit outweighed everything else. Her cheeks were still glowing and her heart rate still elevated. She hadn't touched her dinner----the excitement was too great to even consider eating.

"We had de best teacher," Gambit said, smiling at the Professor. "Thank you." He was tickled at how overwhelmed Rogue was. Mostly, Gambit was just feeling happy and content, and he ate his dinner with gusto.

Bobby clinked his spoon against his glass again, and the bride and groom kissed once more. Hank looked at Bobby, smiling. Bobby had been at it many times during the meal. Just then, little Christopher started to cry. The baby had been sleeping in a crib that Scott parked alongside their dinner table. Jean excused herself from the table and held the baby, trying to soothe him.

"So where are you goin' for your honeymoon?" Bobby asked, jokingly.

"Well, actually, we would love to take a trip back to the Paradise Planet," Gambit said. "We have some special memories from dere." There was some tittering and giggling at the table, since no one could forget the evening Rogue and Gambit had spent by the lake, and the subsequent night in their tent. Rogue's cheeks were redder now as she tried to contain her laughter.

"Yeah, we heard," Bobby said, winking at Gambit.

Panda looked around the smirking faces at the table. "Okay," she smiled, "what am I missing?"

"Oh, did Hank never tell you about this?" Storm asked, grinning. Rogue was now blushing furiously.

"No, he didn't."

Hank then turned to Panda and explained. "Rogue and Gambit consummated their relationship while we were on the Paradise Planet."

"Yeah, and they were **really loud** about it!" Bobby added.

"So loud that they woke some people up from a sound sleep!" Jubilee mentioned.

As Bobby did his imitation of Rogue, most of the people around the table were erupting in laughter. Rogue was too happy to truly be embarrassed.

Once the laughter died down, Gambit turned serious and said, looking in the Professor's direction, "Of course we know dat a trip back dere isn't possible. But dat be okay. An'zhina is tres magnifique."

"Yes, when you live somewhere that used to be a resort, where else do you need?" Jean commented.

"We thinkin' of flying to the other end of the moon," Gambit said. "Just for a few days to get some privacy. Dere are some nice cabins out there."

"Indeed," Storm said, "but I did not see any other replicators or other amenities that we are used to. Perhaps I can fly them to you."

"Dat would be wonderful."

"I am a full-service maid of honor," Storm joked. She glanced at Remy, remembering so well the look he had given Rogue at the ceremony when Rogue had reached her place at his side before the altar. Her thoughts drifted. `What I would give to have one man give me such a look, once in my life….'

We didn't usually replicate much alcohol. After all, it has been known to cause people to make rather questionable decisions and none of the leaders on An'zhina were big drinkers so you didn't see much alcohol around ever. However, for this ceremony a wide variety of drinks were made available. The replicators allowed you to choose whether you wanted them with or without real spirits. I will confess to having had one or two with real booze. Why not? It had been like forever.

Rogue was still looking awed by the whole thing. She looked extremely happy but overwhelmed too, like she couldn't believe it was really happening. She and Gambit spent part of their time at the party dancing, and part of the time socializing.

At one point, Russ stopped the music and grabbed a microphone. He announced that it was time to toss the bouquet, and he asked all the single ladies to take their places. They did so, and Rogue tossed it over her shoulder. Jubilee caught it.

And then the same thing was done with the garter. I didn't go up when Russ asked all the single men to get ready to catch the garter. I think that gay people and straight people have a different conception of the adjective "single." I use the word to refer to anyone who doesn't have a steady love interest. But I guess straight people just use it to refer to those who aren't married, because plenty of those who tried to catch either the bouquet or garter were not without a boyfriend or girlfriend. Whatever. Anyway, Colossus caught the garter. That seemed to make Elena very happy.

After the bouquet and garter tossing, Russ put on some great dance music and people got up to dance. We were outside and didn't have a dance floor, so people just danced on a large flat surface that had been placed over the grass.

I should report that Colossus now dances well. I know I've teasingly written in the past that he was a lousy dancer. However, he and Elena had enrolled in Agata's salsa dancing lessons and I gotta say the big guy now moves with grace. I'm serious. He was very good.

I sat down at a table next to Jubilee, taking a breather. Rogue was there too, drinking some ice water. "Pretty bouquet," I said to Jubilee, who was poking at the bridal bouquet that she'd caught..

"Yeah, but what does it matter," she said, looking glum. "I'm almost ready to give up ever finding someone who wants me."

"Don't lose hope!" Rogue said. "Jubilee, do you remember Jean and Scott's wedding? The second one? I caught the bouquet there and I thought the same thing. I thought it ain't ever gonna happen for me. I remember tearin' up those flowers and crying up a storm that night. And now look. I'm still in shock but someday this is gonna settle in. I'm married now! Sugar, you'll find someone too."

I nodded. "She's right, Jubes. There has to be someone out there for you."

Jubilee shook her head. "It sure would be nice to find someone who wants me for me, and not because he's on the rebound like Angel was or `cause he just wanted to get laid like Brett did."

Rogue continued to reassure Jubilee. I wracked my mind trying to think of a suitable male on An'zhina who didn't already have someone and who I thought could be a solid match for Jubilee. I really couldn't think of anyone though.

"You look so cute." Jean-Paul was suddenly standing in front of me and smiling. He'd just finished dancing several songs with his sister. It had been good to see Jeanne-Marie looking vivacious and happy for once. It had been even better to watch Jean-Paul on the dance floor. : ) His way of moving on the dance floor was a combination of elegance and confidence with a little bit of attitude tossed in. And it was damn sexy.

"Cute?" I asked. "Cute? Are you my Uncle or something?"

Jean-Paul then pinched my cheek. "Cute," he said with finality. "That is what you are. It is a compliment, mon coeur."

I sighed. "I would've preferred to be gorgeous or sexy even, but I guess I have to settle with cute then. Besides, I suppose we can't both be gorgeous and you're the one who is." Jean-Paul sat next to me and I reached for one of his hands and kissed it.

"Thank you, amour," he said, as he gently ran a few fingers down the side of my face.

He and I chatted amiably for a while with Jubilee, as Rogue had gotten up to do more dancing with Remy. Jean-Paul and I held hands on the table. A few people passed by us and took a second look but I didn't sense any nastiness from anyone. Perhaps just curiosity.

Russ then announced that he'd be playing several slow songs and he implored "all the couples" to get on the dance floor. The first sappy love song began and I looked up and saw Rogue and Remy joined by Scott and Jean, Hank and Panda, Colossus and Elena, and Moira and Banshee. There were a handful of other couples too---it looks like some of the other mutants on An'zhina had been pairing up. Not too many though. The dancing floor was far from full.

I looked at Jean-Paul. We were still holding hands, but he was resting his chin on his other hand, watching the dancing. Maybe it was the drink I'd had. But I decided to ask. "Do you want to dance, my love?"

Jean-Paul raised his head and looked at me. "Really? You are not worried what all the others will say?"

"I don't care what they say. I love you."

Jean-Paul broke out with a huge smile. "Oh, Bobby," he said. "I love and admire you even more now."

So we got up, joined hands, and made our way to the dance floor. I was so nervous. My pulse sped up until it felt like my heart was going to leap out of my chest. My hands suddenly were very sweaty. After all these years I still fretted over what people would say about me, still worried people would look at us with hatred. I just forced myself to just put one foot in front of the other to get to the dance floor. But I also squeezed Jean-Paul's hand and felt some confidence flowing from him. He truly did not care what the others thought. And I was still glowing from what he'd said to me.

We got to the dance floor. I placed one hand on Jean-Paul's shoulder, and one around his waist. He had both hands on my waist and we danced, keeping a respectful distance between each other. We didn't meld together like some couples do during slow songs. However, that evening I wasn't watching any of the others. I mostly had my eyes closed or looking at Jean-Paul. As I forced myself to breathe, I tried to block out the darts of hate that my imagination told me were being lobbed at us. We continued dancing through the song that was partly over by the time we took the floor, and we danced through the second slow song as well. After that, we returned to a table.

I had been worried and nervous the entire time, but no one said anything to us. I could tell Jean-Paul had a new respect for me for doing this. And it wasn't just that----I also felt pretty good about myself too. It was a dreamy end to a wonderful day. And after we went back to my room, Jean-Paul and I made love, slowly and sensuously.

Most of the guests had retired to their rooms. Those who had volunteered to clean up were moving the last of the tables back inside. The decorations had been taken down and put away. Rogue and Gambit stood by, thanking the volunteers again for their work as they filed out and congratulated the couple once more.

Rogue turned to face Gambit, looking into his otherworldly eyes which seemed to light up the darkness outside. Those eyes looked back at her with love and adoration. "What a magnificent day, chere," Gambit said. "You still look in awe."

"I am," Rogue said. "I'm in shock and in awe still. But in a good way. I hope I never forget this feeling." Rogue paused and wiped a tear from her face. "I'm so glad you proposed. I can't believe I ever hesitated so much to accept. I was afraid I wouldn't make you happy. Or I didn't deserve you."

"Chere, I'm the one who is honored to be wit' you. Sometimes I wonder if I deserve you."

"Don't be crazy, Remy." Rogue reached for another hug, and they held each other for a long time. "I meant what I said in my vows, Swamp Rat," Rogue said. "I am the luckiest woman who ever lived to have someone who helped me with so much and helped make me become a better person."

"Chere, you be the one who make Gambit a better person. When I first met you, I wanted to make up for evert'ing I ever did wrong."

"I can't believe that now I'm Rebecca LeBeau!" Rogue said. She had told no one else her real name. Rogue had discarded her given name once she'd been taken in by Mystique. Everyone now knew her as `Rogue' and although she had no intention of going back to using her given name, she did enjoy hearing the sound of it with Remy's last name.

"Gambit lookin' forward to havin' kids, chere," Remy murmured in her ear as they hugged.

"Me too, Remy."

"A little boy to carry on the family name. A little girl to spoil and dress up. Maybe two little girls."

"Whoa, sugar," Rogue smiled. "You're gettin' a little ahead of yourself. Let's start with one." Gambit may have been getting ahead of himself, but Rogue did like the thought of being a parent too. Scott and Jean's lives were obviously made better because of the children they had. Rogue silently resolved to just trust that she'd be a good parent, as she had just trusted that loving Gambit would work out well.

The pair then made their way back to their room, planning to retreat to the other end of the moon for their 'honeymoon' the next day. Gambit swept Rogue up in his arms and carried her through the doorway. Both members of the couple were surprised to find that their room had been decorated with flowers, plants, streamers, and cards with messages of love and good luck. There were also several colorfully wrapped gifts adorning the room.

Given that everyone used the replicators to make whatever supplies they required, gifts were not as needed or quite as special as they were on earth, but the couple appreciated them nonetheless. And a few friends had gotten creative and made extraordinary gifts. Wolverine had constructed a crib. Bobby made a beautiful ice sculpture depicting a bride and groom. Hank had chosen a romantic poem which Panda had written out in beautiful calligraphy. They framed their work and presented it to the couple. And Colossus had promised to paint them in their wedding attire, though it would have to happen after the wedding. The frame for the portrait, however, was displayed in the room with all the other gifts.

The day prior to the wedding, the Professor had presented the couple with a tasteful and elegant negligee as a wedding gift. Rogue and Remy could only stand there and laugh with Charles; they knew he was doing it as a way of letting them know he was aware of all the bootleg items they replicated on the ship and was forgiving of it. For their wedding night, Rogue changed into that gown.

However, that night the newlyweds simply lay together in bed before falling asleep. Rogue was feeling too overwhelmed and astounded to be in the right mood that evening. And Gambit was plain tired. So they snuggled up together, without the collar.

Chapter 9

Chapter 11 


	11. Chapter 11

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 11

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 11

It was about two weeks after the wedding ceremony and I was going for a walk after lunch. The day was mild though somewhat windy and cool. I decided to explore the grassy area that led to a lake. I'd walked it before but I wanted to soak up as much An'zhina as I could. Hank had reported that he actually was making progress on fortifying the cloak, and I sensed we might not be on An'zhina that much longer.

As I exited the main building, I spotted Jean Grey sitting on one of the porch swings. She was holding Christopher. Jean and I had hardly spent any time together since the mediation. Once she was at the beach at the same time Jean-Paul and I were there, and we hung together for a bit, but soon she'd gone back to her kids. That afternoon, I went up to Jean on the porch and she smiled. "Hi, Bobby," she said.

"Hi," I said. I looked at the baby and whispered. "Is he asleep?"

"Yes. But it's alright. We can talk to each other. Come here and sit down next to me."

I wondered if she sensed that I truly did want to talk with her a bit. I carefully sat next to her, ensuring I would not rock the swing I looked at the baby. "How adorable," I said.

"Feel his skin. I love how soft it is." Jean gestured for me to touch the baby's foot. I did so, and it was so smooth and silky.

"I remember when Rory was a newborn. Her skin was like this," I said. "Quite an incredible feeling."

"I am trying to absorb it as much as I can," Jean said, her voice sounding a bit dreamy. "Babies just don't last long enough. And Scott and I agreed a long time ago to stop with two. So I want to enjoy this as much as I can."

"I understand. I'm sure there'll be other babies on An'zhina," I said.  
  
"I know. But there's nothing like having one of your own."

Jean and I were quiet for a moment. Then we turned to each other and each said something at the same time. We laughed and then each asked the other to go first. "No, c'mon," she said, "go ahead."

"I think you should go first," I smiled, "since you're psychic and you already know what I'm going to say."

We had a laugh over that, Jean assuring me that she was not reading my mind. In any event, I ended up going first. "I just feel kinda bad lately. I know that Scott and Jean-Paul are not exactly best friends. I hope it doesn't hurt our friendship," I said.

"I'm glad you said that," Jean said. "I feel the same way. You know, there have been many X-men whom Scott has not gotten along with over the years. I know he's very…..law and order, black and white. I think he's less so now. But still."

"And I know Jean-Paul isn't that way at all. I mean, I knew as soon as I'd spent some time with him that he and Scott would never really get along well. And I also know that would be true whether or not Northstar was gay."

Jean nodded. "I'm glad you realize that. Because I was a bit worried you'd think that that was the reason."

"Nah. I mean Scott's never been best friends with Wolverine or Gambit either and they're straight. I see at as a personality clash."

"Exactly."

"And…it's not just Scott either," I offered. "Jean-Paul doesn't talk a lot about his Alpha Flight years---too many painful memories, I'm sure----but from what he does say….I can tell that he irritated a lot of his teammates then too. I love him but I can really see that he has an arrogant side and a headstrong side."

"Well, no one is perfect," Jean said.

There was some awkward silence for a bit. Jean then said, "I'm sure that you and I will be able to maintain a friendship no matter what. And who knows? Maybe someday Scott and Jean-Paul will be friends. I mean….Scott's relationships with Wolverine and Gambit have gotten better over the years. They can all be in the same room without having a fist fight now. Trust me, they used to all loathe the sight of each other."

We didn't talk a whole lot more on this topic. Jean let me hold Christopher for a bit. Not long after the baby was in my arms, Scott entered the porch, carrying Charlotte. I tensed up a bit, worried for a second that he'd grab the baby out of my arms, but he was cool. We just talked about nothing for a bit before I handed Christopher back to Jean and then went on my walk.

Thoughts of a return trip to earth were on my mind, and apparently on other people's minds as well. We'd held an X-men meeting and Hank gave us another update. He said he was getting close to a solution, though we'd need to test it obviously. He gave a bunch of scientific mumbo-jumbo explaining how he'd done it but I really had no idea what he was talking about. We all knew to start mentally gearing up for the next mission, and we X-men all increased our training time and intensity.

The evening of that meeting, I found myself in Jubilee's room. It was bedtime for her daughter Aurora and I was sitting on the bed with her, reading the girl a story. She was bright and clearly fascinated by all the words and pictures.

"Jean and Scott said to read to her every day," Jubilee whispered to me, once Rory was asleep in her bed, which was parked next to Jubilee's. "So I make sure to do it every day. Jean said her parents read to her all the time and that it was really cool."

"She's lucky to have such a good mommie," I said.

Jubilee only smiled and nodded, her eyes looking far away and not focussed on me. "We're not going on the next mission," she said, out of the blue.

I nodded. I wasn't surprised. "I understand," I said.

"I just don't think it's cool to risk her safety like that. Besides, I described it to her and she wants to stay here. She's old enough now to make her wishes known and she says she wants to stay with Charlotte. And stay here where you can go outside and play in the sunlight. I can't leave her and go on the mission without her."

"It makes sense. I'll miss you and her, but it totally makes sense," I said.

"I am really going to miss you, and Storm and Wolverine and everyone else too. But I know what's best. I've already talked to Jean a bit about things I can do here….help train some of the people to use their powers or help with some of the classes Sean's doing. Maybe even try my hand at counseling or offering a shoulder to cry on for those who want it."

"I know you'll be very useful and very appreciated here."

"Thanks, Bobby. I do just feel a bit like I'm shirking my duty as an X-man. Being an X-man is the best thing in my life and the most important. Well….after Aurora, of course."

"You can be an X-man here by doing all the things you talked about," I insisted. "It's okay, Jubes. You're doing what's best for your daughter."

It was late, so I soon said goodnight to Jubilee and then retired to my own room. There was no note from Jean-Paul under the door and he hadn't tried to reach me on my communicator either. We still maintained separate rooms (though he had managed to swap rooms with someone else and get one just four doors down from me.) If one of us wanted to talk or make love, we'd just contact the other either by leaving a note under the door or calling him on the communicator.

I undressed to my boxers, wishing that Jean-Paul had tried to get a hold of me. The last few times I'd been the one. Maybe my drive was higher. I think part of it, though, was that I longed for someone to curl up with at night. I didn't have it, so making love was the next best thing, even though he **always** left afterwards. I once even joked with him, "What is this `Wham, bam, thank you ma'am?!'" But he'd just laughed and said, "You know I love you." Oh well. When you love someone, you accept them and if he didn't want to sleep in the same bed with me, then I was willing to deal with that.

I straightened up a few items in the room when my communicator beeped. It was Jean-Paul!

"You want to talk?" he asked.

"Sure," I said. "You—uh---sound upset about something." Fortunately, I detected sadness and not anger. An angry Jean-Paul was not a pleasant thing.

"I am."

He was in my room within a matter of seconds. I pulled him into a hug when he arrived. "What is this?" he asked, surveying my undressed appearance. "You trying to tempt me?"

I laughed and explained that I'd been ready for bed. He and I sat on the bed together, our backs against the bedboards, propped up by pillows.

"What's wrong, my heart?" I asked him. I'd taken to sometimes calling him that since he used the same endearment, but in French, with me.

"I just finished talking with Jeanne-Marie," he said, his eyes downcast. "More like listening to her as she talked in between sobs. She's decided to take Stephan back to earth."

"Back to earth?"

"Yes. She's going to go on our next rescue mission and we'll have to beam him back down to his grandparents. The boy hates it here. Every day he says he wants to go back home. Jeanne-Marie even has asked him if he loves her and lately he says he does not. So she's going to have him returned to his grandparents."

"Oh, Jean-Paul," I whispered. "She must be heart-broken."

"She is. She's lost her husband, she's already lost her parents and almost all of her Alpha Flight family. Not to mention that she was horribly tortured by FOH for four months. And now she is giving up her son. Once he gets back to earth, she'll never see him again….Bobby, I'm worried that once he's gone, she will see no reason left to live."

"Of course she has a reason. You. You can be her support."

"I know that I am. But I do not think that I'm enough. Sometimes I look at her and I see this shell of a person. Before, she had many sides to her personalities and many different moods. But you often would see her happy and loving life. I think she hates it now. I hear her say being a mutant is a curse. And I feel her pain and share it. I'm hurting so much inside."

I placed a hand on Jean-Paul's arm. "I wish I could help somehow. I wish I could make it better."

"That is how I feel. Like nothing I can say or do is going to make this better for Jeanne-Marie. Nothing I can do is going to ease her pain. And we spent hours crying together today with her saying life is miserable."

Jean-Paul rested his head against me and I held him for a long, long time. I couldn't think of anything that I could say that might make it easier on him, so I just kept embracing him and telling him how much I loved him.

After a while, he grew tired of the embrace and straightened back up against the bedboard as he said, "I've been so preoccupied with this, I almost forgot to tell you what happened this morning."

"What is it?" I asked. His tone had suddenly taken on a lighter nuance.

"I went swimming before dinner while you were working in the garden. When I was in the changing room, this guy Xian comes up to me. You remember Xian, right?"

"I think so," I said. It was still impossible to know **all** the mutants well but I was pretty sure who Jean-Paul was referring to: one of the rescuees from Beijing, Xian was in his forties and spoke broken—but passable---English.

"So he comes up to me and….how can I describe it. He pats his….groin and says something like, `How about it?'"

"What??" I asked.

Jean-Paul shook his head. "Xian's English isn't the best but I finally get out of him that he wants me to suck him off. He says something like, `I heard you gay. So do this for me, please.'"

"You've gotta be kidding."

"I wish I was. And it gets better." Jean-Paul then resumed recounting the conversation, "So I tell Xian that I have a boyfriend, and besides I'm not interested. He then goes on to explain over and over again that he's not gay but he hasn't been with a woman since before the camps and it would be so nice if I'd just do this for him because none of the women here want relationships or sex. I have to tell him 'no' like five times. It was a credit to me that I didn't punch him out like I should have."

"That's incredible. What nerve." I was pretty disgusted by Xian's request of Jean-Paul, and at the same time I was thrilled that Jean-Paul had **not** reacted by beating up the guy. That would have been another disaster for us.

"I know. It was surprising," Jean-Paul said. "But straight guys have said stranger things to me. I do feel sorry for some of the guys here," he continued, sighing, "since what Xian said is true. Most of the women here aren't interested in men anymore."

I nodded, knowing that it was the truth. A few of the female camp survivors were expressing an interest in men and a few relationships had started up-----as witnessed by a handful of couples dancing at Rogue and Remy's wedding. But the vast majority apparently had no interest in relationships. Or sex. Given all they have survived, I could certainly see where they came from. Who could blame them? But I could also see that Xian's request wasn't all that much of a shock and wondered if we'd get anymore like that.

"He should've asked Psylocke," I muttered. Psylocke was continuing to be the exception to the rule about how most camp survivors were behaving.

"I don't know why he did not. But brace yourself, amour, if Xian ever approaches you."

"Thanks for the warning," I smiled. "I'll let him know that just because we're gay doesn't mean we give blow jobs to the whole world here." I then placed a hand on Jean-Paul's thigh and began, suggestively, "Speaking of blow jobs…."

"Ouch!" he said, smiling, "that was a horrible transition!" He and I both laughed. "I am almost tempted to say no just because of that!" he smiled

"It was funny though."

"Only to someone with a crazy sense of humor like yourself," he said, tweaking my ear.

Afterwards, he left as usual. I bunched the blankets around me, surrounding myself in Jean-Paul's scent as I prepared for sleep. The window was open and near my bed----a cool and fresh breeze wafted through it. I inhaled its deliciousness. I wasn't looking forward to our next earth mission. Freedom was a comfortable and spacious ship but nothing could compare to falling asleep breathing clean and cool air by an open window.

One good thing about getting ready to leave An'zhina----I'd be away from Todd. Todd continued to harass us. Actually, I should say harass *me.** He was smart enough to avoid Jean-Paul, knowing full well that Jean-Paul would beat him to a pulp again at the slightest provocation. But Todd wasn't stupid and he knew that I was more mature in that regard and that I wanted to avoid conflict.

One evening, Todd and I passed each other in the halls. We were alone; no one else was within eyesight or earshot. As we pass, he mutters "faggot" under his breath. He whispers it so quietly I barely hear it, and he keeps on walking. I stop dead in my tracks, dumbfounded, questioning whether I imagined it or not. I just stood there, watching him continue to walk away, paralyzed with confusion and anger. I told no one about this.

And one afternoon, the weather was exceptionally good and many were eating lunch on the porch behind the main complex. Jean-Paul and I walked out onto the porch, holding hands as we often did. Todd looks right into my eyes and as his eyes drill into mine, he spits a huge wad of spit onto the ground. Jean-Paul had been looking around, searching for his sister and completely oblivious to what Todd did. Todd moved on a split second after his hateful gesture. Again, I was surprised, confused and a bit frightened. I dropped Jean-Paul's hand, and he turned towards me, asking if I was alright. I muttered, "Fine," and reached for his strong hand again. I don't know if anyone on that crowded porch observed this.

I wished Todd would use his power of invisibility and just make himself disappear.

Actually, why should I be making light of this? It pissed me off. But I couldn't tell Jean-Paul----he'd just go after Todd and beat him. I didn't want to tell Jean Grey or any of the other leaders either---they'd just require us to sit in another mediation. I just reminded myself that I truly had nothing to fear. If Todd ever attacked me, he'd be toast in a minute. My years of training as an X-men had served me well. Although I'd always been slighter in physique and musculature than most of the other men, I was also in the best condition of my life. My muscles were more defined than ever; I had strong arms, shoulders, back, and legs. Add to that the fact that Wolverine had taught me karate, I could've whipped Todd's ass without even having to turn into my Iceman form.

At the very least, I had one thing to console me: Todd's behavior was an aberration among those who lived on the moon. No one else was openly hostile towards Northstar and I.

Charles Xavier sat opposite Betsy Braddock in a darkened conference room. If an outsider could have taken a glimpse inside the room, they perhaps would have noticed that the man appeared placid. Sitting on his ever-present hover chair, the Professor's hands were folded in his lap and his eyes were closed. His calm facial features belied the strain he was experiencing.

Inside his mind, he struggled for control and for some degree of detachment during his session with Betsy. Oftentimes after their meetings, Charles thought back to the days he had spent with Sabertooth, so many years ago. The Professor had worked with him, trying to ease his anger and restore him, as he had done so with Wolverine before. In order to aid Sabertooth in battling his inner demons, Charles had become one with him, mentally. He had seen and experienced the rages, the anger, the hatred. He had battled Sabertooth's inner demons with him.

It had been to no avail. Despite all his work, the Professor had been unable to help Sabertooth. Charles feared that Psylocke was perhaps at that point, beyond help.

When they met every other day, he also became one with her mind. He experienced, just as she had, being strapped down to a bed. He vicariously felt his body invaded over and over and over again, some days literally hundreds of times. During their sessions, his mind became like hers: the true self was wrapped up inside an impenetrable core. The layers around it were bulwarks of protection. The real Betsy had no desire to step out from her protective shell. Charles could pierce through those layers if he wished to, but doing so disturbed Betsy. And she had no wish to talk through her torment with him.

Meanwhile, Betsy sat facing the Professor. She was there because she had to be there; she had been ordered to submit to counseling as penance for the lives and ships she had destroyed. No, she knew that Charles did not regard this as punishment. Rather, as he told her more than once, he wanted help her become herself again and help her see the wrong in the deed she had done. `Maybe, this **is** myself now,' Betsy often mused. `It is better this way.'

The counseling session that day was tolerable. The X-men would be returning to earth soon, the Professor would be gone, and Betsy had some plans of her own.

The X-men had been back on An'zhina for nearly four months now. Beast had come up with a solution that he was confident would reinforce their cloak and render them invisible to FOH's sensors once again. And the Professor, though still not feeling fully restored, was rested and prepared to take on FOH again.

The X-men's leaders had scheduled a meeting to discuss their plans in more detail. The Professor, Cyclops, and Storm were to sit down with the field commanders: Wolverine, Rogue and Beast along with the leaders of An'zhina: Jean, Moira, and Banshee.

However, a few hours before the meeting was to take place, Queen Marina contacted the Professor and said she wanted a meeting with him, Storm and Cyclops. The discussion that took place with Endaria's ruler provided the X-men with much to go over during their own meeting with the others hours later.

"Marina made a request of us," Storm began, facing the eight others who sat at the round table. "We promised her that we would take it to the others for consideration, even though we do not think it will be well-received."

Storm paused and took a breath. Rogue glanced at her friend, not certain what she saw on Storm's face. She also peeked at Cyclops and saw that he looked fairly disgusted with something. The Professor didn't look very pleased either. Storm then continued, "Apparently, there are a group of Endarians who live on one of the other moons here. The moon is called Le'ara, and it is the second smallest after An'zhina. Those who live on Le'ara are…..followers of us, for lack of a better term."

"Followers of us?" Banshee asked.

"Of the X-men?" Rogue asked.

"Yes," Storm answered.

"Wait a sec here, sugar. I thought the Endarians are all isolationists," Rogue said.

Hank spoke up, "`Xenophobe' is a more accurate term, but isolationist can also describe their viewpoint."

Rogue made a face at him and Wolverine wished people would stop interrupting so Storm could get to where she was going with this. Storm then continued. "Whatever the case, those who have migrated to Le'ara consider themselves….devotees of us, and Le'ara is now inhabited primarily by these followers. From what Marina described, they read….stories of our adventures and even watch a television show about us."

This came as a surprise to the group. They knew that Queen Marina----and many other Endarians----admired the X-men and what they had done on earth. However, as Wolverine commented, "I didn't know we have a goddamn fan club here."

"Yeah, do we get a percentage of the profits from all these stories and shows bein' made about us?" Rogue asked.

"No doubt Queen Marina would remind us that she gave us this moon," Beast said.

"So she called a meeting with you three just to tell you that we have these followers?" Banshee asked.

"There's more," Cyclops said, grimly.

"It seems that these Endarians wish to introduce mutation into their society," Storm continued, wondering why she'd volunteered for the task of relaying this to the others. "They are puzzled as to why such mutation has not occurred among Endarians and want to introduce our genes into their society."

This raised quite a few eyebrows.

"We asked Marina specifically what she meant and specifically what she was requesting of us. She said that she would like us to donate sperm to these people." Storm had to keep from smiling as she said it. Not that she was the least bit happy----just that the scenario was so ridiculous.

"What?" Rogue asked, the look on her face leaving little doubt that she thought Marina's request was absurd.

"She would like the male mutants on An'zhina to donate sperm so that the people of Le'ara can have mutant children. Marina also went on to say that she would have also requested that the female mutants here be impregnated with the Le'aran's sperm and then give up their babies, but she said she knew we would not be willing to do so. But she is asking for donations of sperm from the men. She asked us to run this request by everyone."

"Is she insane?" Banshee asked. "I certainly wilna go along with this! I have one child and one child only. I'm not going to father other children and then not be allowed to raise them! How dare she even ask!"

"We ain't farm animals for breedin'!" Wolverine said, clearly outraged. "I think this is a crock o' shit and who the fuck does she think she is, asking this!"

Cyclops shook his head. "Her request was just outrageous. I told her that no one would agree to it."

"I think the whole thing is crazy," Rogue said.

"So are we to understand," Hank began, "that there are several females living on Le'ara who wish to be impregnated with our sperm?" He wanted to ensure he grasped the situation as fully as possible before passing judgement.

"Yes," Storm said. "That is indeed what Marina told us."

"Did she say what the long-term plan for this situation is? Is the intention that the citizens of Le'ara will raise the children without any involvement from us? Or are we to play some sort of role? Do they realize the possibility that the children will not be mutants? Or the possibility that mutant humans and Endarians might not be able to produce offspring and----"

Cyclops cut him off. "We didn't ask for any details. I, personally, was so disgusted that I wanted to leave the room."

"Are they tellin' or askin'?" Wolverine asked.

"Marina made it clear that this was a request," the Professor answered, placing emphasis on the last word.

"But her requests are getting more and more inappropriate," Scott said. He then took a breath. "There's something I didn't tell any of you," he began. "Except Jean, of course," he added awkwardly. "A few months ago, Marina made another request during one of the meetings with the three of us. She requested, as a thank-you for everything she'd been doing for us, that I sleep with her."

Eyebrows were again raised and more than one person said a silent, 'Ah-ha.'

"I refused, of course," Scott continued. "But for those of you who have noticed a sort of change in Marina's attitude towards us, it happened once I refused her request. Jean and I asked her to help with Lu, but she said no way. And now she makes this request out of the blue."

Wolverine wasn't one to bite his tongue. But he really wanted to cuss Cyclops out right then and there. Had Marina told him that if he would recant and sleep with her that she would help cure Lu? And if so, how dare the bastard refuse! Still, for whatever reason, Wolverine kept his mouth closed. He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, sending hateful looks towards Scott. But then he thought about the scenario some more. It was Cyke's body, Cyke's life. What if it had been a male ruler who had wanted to sleep with Jubilee—or one of the other rape survivors? Wolverine sure wouldn't have condemned her for not going along with it. But still.

"Did she say what would happen if we wilna go along with this request?" Moira asked, breaking the clumsy silence that had fallen over the room.

"No," Scott said. "We told her that we didn't think that too many---if any---guys would go along with this. She just reiterated to make sure that we ask them." Scott paused. He knew this meeting would not be easy. "By the way, what I just told you…..about Marina's earlier request of me. Please keep it confidential. I'd prefer if this didn't get out."

The others nodded and expressed assent. "Well then," the Professor began, "is anyone here interested in carrying out what Marina is requesting?"

No one was. Storm then offered to think of a way to communicate the request to everyone else, per Marina's order. The discussion then died down for a bit until Wolverine spoke. "I said it when we first came here," he began. "No one gives you a moon without wanting something in return. Now we're seein' it and it's just gonna continue till they ain't **requesting** things anymore.."

"Sure does make you wonder how secure we are here," Rogue mused glumly. "She says it's a request now, but what happens when she turns it into a demand?"

"Irregardless of that, how secure ever was our position on An'zhina?" Beast asked. "Have we ever determined what might happen if and when Marina is no longer Queen of Endaria?"

Jean nodded. "We discussed that with her during one of your missions. She said she placed a Binding Executive Order that grants the deed over this moon to us. She said that means that should she die or should the Executive Council vote her out, we would still retain the moon."

"What about her successors?" Rogue asked. "And what's the deal with Endaria, again? Do they elect their rulers do they rule by birthright?"

"Endaria is a constitutional monarchy," Hank said. Marina had gone over all of this with the X-men when they had first met. At that time, Gambit had been recovering from a coma and Rogue had not been following matters of state with the most rapt attention. "Marina has the throne for life unless she should violate the constitution. When she dies or if she violates the constitution, the throne will go to her heirs."

"She has one child," Moira said. "A son who is about 5, I believe. He will be the next ruler. Unless Marina should die before her son turns 20. In that case, the throne will go to Marina's younger brother. Theoretically, the next regent could overturn her Binding Executive Order, but they are to do so only in extreme cases."

"We were once told that a regent has never overturned another regent's Binding Executive Order in Endaria's history," the Professor added. "And Endaria has quite a long history."

Rogue nodded, thankful for the information. She had heard it before but it wasn't ever foremost on her mind and had been forgotten. "So is the bottom line that we can stay here forever?" Rogue asked. "I mean, theoretically and all," she added as a disclaimer, since she knew some in that room believed that nothing lasts forever.

The Professor answered her. "Yes," he said slowly, "unless one thing." He paused for a second. "Unless Marina herself overturns her own Binding Executive Order."

"Which she **can** do," Jean added.

The mutants on An'zhina had a bulletin board which they frequently used to communicate with each other. Storm posted Marina's request on that board, indicating that any interested parties should contact one of the X-men leaders or their representatives (Erica and Yunfei.) Most who saw the message on the board thought it was a joke. Many burst out laughing after reading it. Some inquired as to whether it truly was a prank and were surprised when the answer was negative. However, no one took it seriously and no one was interested in making a donation. Storm relayed that information to a displeased Marina.

Meanwhile, the X-men were finalizing their preparations for their return mission to earth. They tested and re-tested their improved cloak. However, until they confronted a Friends of Humanity starship, they would not know for certain whether it worked. They also stocked up on their Euphoria Vapor and redoubled their training efforts.

The day for the X-men to leave for their next mission to earth drew near. One afternoon, two days before they were to depart, several of the X-men were on the bridge of Freedom, beaming their possessions and supplies from their quarters on An'zhina back to the starship. As they worked, Storm pressed a few buttons and re-ran some final diagnostics.

"We are missing a shuttle!" Storm realized, shocked. They had not been missing it yesterday when they ran the very same check. Freedom had come with three shuttles. One remained on An'zhina at all times, as a precaution. So there should have been two on board Freedom. Today, there was only one.

"What happened?" Wolverine asked, standing next to her.

"I cannot tell," she replied, looking at her console. She contacted the Professor.

Charles shut his eyes and concentrated. "We're missing Marrow. And Psylocke."

Marrow was to have accompanied the X-men on the mission. Because she was suspended, Psylocke was to have remained on An'zhina. However, that day both women were gone. Their quarters on An'zhina were searched but no one could find any note or any explanation as to why they had left so quickly. They had spoken with no one.

"I wonder what their plans are," Storm was saying to some of the others, after the search. "Do they plan to go to earth and kill some FOH soldiers?"

"That'll be a suicide mission," Wolverine grumbled.

"Perhaps not," the Professor said. "Marrow's powers are good for mainly hand to hand combat, but Psylocke is a **very** powerful mutant." They all remembered how she had single-handedly destroyed two FOH ships.

"And I would imagine that they've outfitted their shuttle with the improved cloaking device," Storm said. "If it works, they should easily be able to get near earth. And the shuttles are just as fast as Freedom."

The Professor nodded and sighed. "I could use my powers to locate them," he finally said. "Even if the shuttle is as fast as Freedom, they can't be out of telepathic range by now." He paused. "However, I have decided not to do this. If they want to leave, that is their choice. I need to conserve my energy and my powers." He doubted that he would be able to convince them to discontinue their plans and he had not the energy to argue. He certainly would not use his powers to compel them to turn back, either.

Storm was somewhat surprised by his statement. She then nodded and said. "We will have to hope that whatever they do does not obstruct our mission."

The X-men who would be going on this mission were: Professor X, Storm, Wolverine, Beast, Rogue, Gambit, Iceman, Colossus, Angel, Nightcrawler, and the three former members of Alpha Flight: Northstar, Aurora Borealis, and Shaman. The only others accompanying them would be Panda, Elena, and young Stephan. (Shaman's wife and daughter elected to remain on An'zhina.) Wolverine looked over the docket and frowned. Only 12 fighters…and only one telepath. If they even made it to earth this time, this would not be an easy mission.

Wolverine didn't feel like saying another goodbye. He'd had enough of those during his lifetime. He just reminded himself that it was far, far better this way. Jubilee and her daughter would be safe here. Let him miss them. The pain of their absence might harden his heart again and make everything all the more tolerable. When they stood there, outside of the bay where Freedom was kept, he had no plans to hug and kiss them. He would just mutter something to the effect of 'goodbye.'

But little Aurora had something else in mind. The toddler made her way up to him with her arms outstretched. "Uncle!" she called out.

Logan's heart melted. Damn. That child would always have the same effect on him as her mother did. He'd known he was a goner when Rory had been a few days old and Jubilee had asked him to hold her. His resolve to harden his heart flew out the window.

Rory reached Wolverine's leg and held her arms up. He had no choice but to pick her up. Gazing at her face, he saw her strong resemblance to Jubilee. The eyes and nose were Jubilee's, as was the shape of the face. The mouth was out of place though; it was the only thing that destroyed the image of Rory as a little Jubilee. The mouth was too big and the lips far too thin. 'Does Jubes ever see this kid and think of her attackers?', Wolverine wondered. `Who am I kiddin? Of course she does.'

The child returned the gaze of her surrogate Uncle. In as many words, Rory told Wolverine that she didn't want him to go. "I know, kid," he said. He then reminded her of all the things she liked about An'zhina, including her best friend Charlotte. But little Aurora cried anyway. She knew that most of her dear Uncles and Aunts were leaving for an extended period of time and she didn't like it one bit.

Wolverine then handed Aurora back to her mother. Jubilee held the girl, who was becoming heavier and heavier each day it seemed. "She's not the only one," Jubilee began. "I'll miss you too, Wolvie."

He could tell that Jubilee was choking back tears. Her eyes were near glistening. "I know, darlin'," Wolverine said, pulling both Jubilee and Aurora into a hug. "I'll miss you too." He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I love you," Jubilee said. Aurora then echoed, "Love you too."

Wolverine smiled. Leaving them still hurt, but the pain was manageable, knowing they would both be safe. "I love you too," he said.

The goodbyes were painful all around for Jubilee, as she and her daughter bid farewell to Storm, Bobby, the Professor, and everyone else who meant so much to her. Jubilee kept reminding herself that she needed to do what was best for Aurora, and the child was so much safer on An'zhina. However, by the time she got to saying goodbye to Bobby, Rory was not the only one openly crying.

"I can't wait to leave this hellhole," Stephan muttered as his mother Jeanne-Marie Beaubier ushered him up Freedom's ramp. The boy knew the hardest part would be the five weeks cooped up in the starship with all the mutant freaks, but the prospect of returning to earth would make it all worth it. He'd been counting down the days till he'd be allowed to leave An'zhina.

Jeanne-Marie walked him to his room, fighting back tears. Her only child, her only remnant of her murdered husband and she was going to be losing him too. Correction. She'd **already** lost him. Stephan didn't even try to hide the fact that he couldn't wait to be away from all of the "damn muties", his own mother included.

Meanwhile, Warren Worthington walked up the ramp to Freedom and then turned around for one more look at the beautiful moon. As he surveyed the bright green fields against the purplish color of the sky, he gripped his stomach, feeling some physical pain. Warren had never been so lonely in his entire life. Psylocke was gone; he understood that despite all his best efforts, he'd lost her forever. He started to think that he might never see her again. Warren resolved to make FOH pay for this.

And there was no one else either, no other woman to fill the void that Psylocke left. Only a handful of women were going on this mission and they were all completely unavailable. Rogue was married, Panda was with Hank, Elena with Colossus, and whatever Storm had with Wolverine was still going on---- and Angel sure wasn't about to step into it. It was also widely known that Jeanne-Marie Beaubier had no more interest in men or dating.

It was going to be one long, lonely trip to earth.

Charles Xavier felt a sense of déjà vu as Banshee shook his hand and wished him well on the mission. He and Moira also kept their farewell succinct. They had spent some time together the evening before.

That evening with Moira, Charles had done something that he rarely, if ever, did. He opened up to someone else; he let another person listen to his anguish. He confided in Moira how he felt like a failure. Everything---from the dismal situation on earth to his inability to help Psylocke—felt like his failure.

"Charles, we all feel this way at one time or another," Moira had said, looking at his face and seeing the fatigue in his eyes. "You did your best. You do your best with everything. And you canna dwell on the negative. Look at all the successes you've had, such as Rogue. She is doing so well now. Think of how she was when you first met her."

But Moira had sensed that nothing she had said to him really consoled him in the least. He'd still looked despondent when they parted company that evening, and the following day---as he prepared to board Freedom---he looked no better. Moira looked at him, wondering if he felt for her what she still felt for him. If he did, he kept it well hidden.

So back to earth we went. Another five week trip, if all went well. We hoped this time we would get a chance to use the Euphoria Vapor and be able to really free some of our mutant brothers and sisters.

I worried over Psylocke and Marrow and whatever they had planned. And I really missed Jubilee and Rory, as I knew I would. I liked to spend a few hours a day playing Uncle but that was impossible. The only child on board Freedom was Stephan and he sure didn't want me coming near him.

And I felt so bad for Northstar. He was really down in the dumps because his sister was totally miserable. Stephan seemed oblivious to the fact that his mother was heartbroken. Anytime I saw the kid---which wasn't too often---he just talked about how he couldn't wait to get back to earth. Jeanne-Marie was anguished, which meant Jean-Paul was anguished, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. At least he didn't take it out on me.

There was one piece of good news. About a week after we set out, our sensors picked up an uncloaked FOH vessel. The ship was "near" ours; at least "near" in space terms. It was near enough that it could have sensed us had they been able to detect our cloaking device. But obviously they couldn't…..the FOH ship did nothing. Didn't alter its course or attack or do anything that indicated they knew we were present. They were too far for the Professor to be able to confirm whether they were indeed oblivious to us but we took their non-action as a great sign. Whatever Hank did with the cloaking device (he explained it in my presence more than once but I couldn't understand a word) was apparently working.

About four or five days after that non-incident with FOH, I sat on bridge duty with Colossus. Despite the fact that we were fairly sure our revised cloak was working, we still took bridge duty seriously. Colossus and I settled down in the captain and first officer's chairs respectively. I don't remember how we got to talking with each other, but I wanted to impress him with my memory of the Russian language. (A couple years ago, we'd celebrated Christmas and as his gift to me, Peter gave me some Russian language lessons. I wanted to show him that I still remembered some from our long days on the Paradise Planet.) I made some remark that my Danger Room training session that morning had been "ochen trudna." (very difficult.)

"Horosho!" Peter exclaimed (which means 'good.') "You still remember some Russian."

"Nimnoga," I said, using the word that meant `a little.' I then had to switch to English. "Every now and then a phrase will pop into my head," I said. "But I think I forgot most of it." I paused. "You know, we could go back to regular lessons together, but since you spend all your free time with a certain pink-skinned mutant…."

Peter started smiling like crazy. Seeing this side of him was very cool since he didn't open up much. "It is true. I am in love, Bobby."

"I'm really happy for you."

"You know, ever since I catch the…." he searched for the right word and apparently found it, "garter at Rogue and Gambit's wedding, I think maybe it is time to propose to Elena."

"Really?" I asked. "That's great! I remember how she looked once you caught the garter. She looked happy. So have you thought of when you might propose?"

"I not sure now. Maybe after this mission."

"Well that's great to hear. I wish you all the best." I was tickled that Peter opened up to me since he usually didn't. I don't think it was intentional; I think it was just that we didn't see much of each other. He truly did spend most of his time with Elena. But that day for some reason he seemed like he wanted to talk, and it was cool that he shared his plans about proposing. "Maybe someday soon we'll see little Colossuses, or little pink Elenas."

He smiled at my comment. He then asked, "How is Northstar?"

"He's doing alright," I said. "You know, he's sad because his sister is sad." Peter nodded. Everyone knew what was going on with Stephan, and subsequently with Jeanne-Marie and Jean-Paul. "But he's okay." I paused and looked at Colossus. "Thanks for asking," I added. I wanted to thank him for acknowledging—by asking about it--- my relationship with Jean-Paul.

"You two seem happy together," he said.

"We are."

"I am glad for An'zhina. You two can live together there and not be….bothered by anyone."

As I silently added, 'Except for a jerk named Todd,' Colossus continued speaking. "In Russia, things very different. Sometimes people like you put into mental institution. Or it used to be labor camp, I heard. The older people in my village once talked about man who they took away long time ago for that. I was young when they talk about this but I remember."

Someone must have put a quarter in Colossus because I hardly ever heard him talk this much. And especially about something like this. I sensed he maybe had something to say, so I tried to gently prompt him to go on. "Yeah, I guess I'm lucky. Though it kinda sucks that we live in a world where people are treated that way in the first place. It's not right. It's just as bad as putting mutants into `containment centers.'"

"I know. I come to realize this but I didn't always think so. You see, Bobby, I was raised to think that….people like you are bad. Homosexuals. But I come to see that you nothing to be wary of, and it is not right to look down on someone for that."

"Am I the first gay person you ever met?"

"Yes. So coming from somewhere where people like you considered to be insane or to be criminal, I had some….hesitate, a bit when we first meet. But over the years I see how stupid it was of me to think so. You and Northstar such nice people."

We talked a bit more along those lines. I still don't really know what prompted him to open up in me like that. And I honestly had never sensed that he'd been wary of me before. But then again, he and I had hardly spent much time together during the three months I'd been back with the X-men before we got captured by FOH. Whatever the case, I thought it was cool that he'd had his mind changed.

It had started out like any other evening for Jean Grey. She'd spent a few hours after dinner with a group of female camp survivors whom she'd been facilitating in group healing/counseling sessions. Scott had simultaneously been working with a mixed group of camp survivors, leading them through some exercises to help build their confidence and esteem. Each parent had one child with them; Jean with the infant, since he was so much more dependent, and Scott with Charlotte.

After their sessions, Jean and Scott retired to their room. Their groups had finished later than usual and Charlotte was too tired for a story. Jean sat down to read to her, but the child was asleep by the time they got to page 2.

Jean and Scott then readied for bed. They considered making love, decided they were a bit too tired right then and that they'd save it for an evening when they had more energy.

The trouble started when Jean fell asleep. Images invaded her dreams, images that she had thought she'd long since banished. Suddenly she was back on board Freedom….before its name had been changed to Freedom, before the X-men had gotten control of the ship. She suddenly was reliving pieces of the worst four days of her life. Upon later reflection, Jean would find that odd. She almost never—consciously or unconsciously---returned to those memories. Even when she counseled camp survivors, Jean tended to do it with a sense of detachment, as she felt that she had long since worked through it all. But that night, her subconscious got the best of her and she woke up in a cold sweat, trembling with fear and nausea.

Scott woke up too. Jean's unconscious mind must have signaled his as well. They huddled together in bed, holding and trying to comfort each other.

Charlotte began to cry. The toddler rarely—if ever---woke up during the night, but tonight she wailed and wailed as if in agony. Scott rose, picked her up and brought her over to their bed. "Mama!" Charlotte cried out, wrapping her arms around Jean.

"The poor thing," Jean murmured, her voice low and throaty. "She feels everything that I felt then. She's so scared and confused about how her mom can be so upset. She's scared of the emotions going through her right now." She grasped Charlotte to her tightly, trying to calm her down.

"It's okay, honey," Scott murmured, trying to soothe Charlotte with his touches. "Mommy is okay. You'll be alright too." Jean spoke similar comforting words to their daughter, and Charlotte began to quiet down.

"She feels better now," Jean said after a while. Charlotte was falling back asleep.

"How are you?" Scott asked.

"Alright. It…it was such a horrible dream. I haven't thought back to the time we were prisoners for so long. I really thought it was all behind me. I guess my unconscious mind decided otherwise."

"Are you really feeling better, my love? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"It's good to be here with you holding me," she said, loving the warmth that came from Scott and the comfort that his strong arms around her brought. "I'm starting to feel better. I felt such….nausea. It's starting to go down." She looked down at Charlotte. "She's asleep now."

"Here, I'll bring her back to her bed."

When Scott returned to their bed, he held Jean again. She was able to fall back asleep, though her mind did not rest that night.

Chapter 10

Chapter 12 


	12. Chapter 12

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 12

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 12

"That's such a beautiful ring, Rogue," Panda said. Panda and Rogue sat on bridge duty together on board Freedom. Panda had wanted to be given more responsibilities and more training as an X-man. She had pretty much mastered the role of medical assistant, and Hank had been training her to do even more in sick bay. She had also recently been trained on the workings of the essential ship functions, and was taking her turn on bridge duty. Bridge duty on this mission was somewhat less stressful for the team than it had been on the previous one. As far as anyone could tell, FOH was once again oblivious to their presence.

"Why thank you, sugar," Rogue said, smiling. The diamond ring that Gambit had given her sparkled on Rogue's finger.

"You know, I….I hope you don't mind me asking this. But may I ask where Gambit got it from?" The question had long since puzzled Panda. She didn't see any way Gambit could simply have stopped at a jewelry store on earth.

But Rogue just smiled sweetly. "There are some things, sugar, that I figure I'm better off not knowin'. I don't know how my husband got this." Rogue really liked saying the words `my husband.' "So I never asked him. But Remy has his ways. He used to be a thief, you know."

"Ah," Panda said, nodding. `Darn it!' she thought. She was pretty certain that if she came straight out and asked, Gambit would not tell her either. "Hey, Rogue," she began again, "do you know, if a woman proposes to a man, is it traditional for her to give him a ring too?" Panda truly had no idea about this.

"I don't know. I'd reckon….well, I think maybe not. `Cause back on earth you'd see men with wedding bands but you'd never see men with diamonds like I have. And the wedding bands are exchanged at the ceremony, not during the proposal. So I say no. But I guess I don't know any women who do the proposing, so who knows what the tradition is?" Rogue then stopped her speculation and turned to look at Panda. "Are you thinking of proposing to Beast?"

A smile spread across Panda's face and she nodded. "Now keep this quiet, Rogue. But yes, I'm considering it. You see, I've had to initiate everything else. I think if it had been up to him, we'd still be holding hands and that's it." She shrugged. "I don't see any reason for not getting moving on the marriage thing. We know we'll always be together. We were talking the other day of how we feel like we're soulmates. And he says he never before dreamed he'd have a soulmate the way Cyclops does and how happy I make him. Besides, he's not getting any younger. His thirties are going to be behind him in a few years, and he says he wants to have kids. I'm assuming he'll want to be young enough to enjoy them. So anyway, I've been seriously thinking about popping the question because I think he'll drag his feet."

Rogue squeezed Panda's arm. "Good for you, girl. I say go for it!"

"Thanks, Rogue. I just need to work up the courage and think of the right setting. I'd rather not do it on board this starship, but I don't want to wait till we get back to An'zhina either."

"If it's makin' you nervous, you know you don't need to make a big production out of it. Can't you just ask him one night whether he ever thinks about gettin' married?"

"I've been thinking of that too. Because I think I'd feel really funny getting down on one knee in front of him and saying, `My darling would you marry me?'"

"You got it. It don't need to be anything that formal." Even as Rogue agreed with the words she'd spoken, she simultaneously felt glad that Gambit had proposed in such a classy manner.

Panda settled back into her seat and turned her attention over to her monitor. Rogue, however, wasn't fully ready to drop the topic. "So I take it everything's going real well with Hank?" she asked Panda. She knew the answer was obvious but she really wanted to hear more about their relationship.

"Uh-huh. It's really good. I'm happier than I ever been."

"Do you and him ever have any rough spots? If you don't mind my askin'," she hastily added.

"Oh, we have a few, I suppose. I wish he'd spend fewer hours in the lab and more time with me. But his work is so important that I understand," Panda replied.

"And he's so amazingly brilliant too. His mind is capable of doing so much. I don't know what we'd ever do without him."

"We wouldn't be going on this mission. Unless someone else here has the ability to strengthen the cloak. What amazes me is that he's brilliant in so many different areas. If he were on earth, I have no doubt he could rack up as many PhDs and other initials after his name as he felt like." Panda paused. She decided to go ahead and confide in Rogue. She wanted to strengthen her friendship with both Rogue and Storm, and thought that opening up would be one way to do that. "The only thing that causes us a bit of trouble is sex," she admitted. "It's great, but I want it way more often than he does."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. Me, I'd be glad to have it every day. I think he's content with once or twice a week. So we're always trying to find a happy medium."

"I ain't surprised that you're havin' this problem. We mutant women are total horn dogs."

"Are we?" Panda asked, brightening at Rogue's words. "So it's not just me?"

"Nope, not at all. Storm and Jean---and sometimes Jubilee too---and me used to discuss this with each other all the time. We all want sex every day. I think this is true of other mutant women too. Now me, I'm lucky. Remy has the same sex drive I do." Rogue tilted her head up and grinned. "We once both joked that we'd be happy to be at it all day long."

The scientist inside Panda gave way momentarily. She had wanted to speculate as to whether this could be nature's way of urging mutant women to pass on their genes. But instead, she responded to Rogue by saying, "You **are** lucky. Wow. For Hank and I, it's wonderful when we do it…it's just that I wish so much he'd want it more often. But I never want to pressure him or hurt his feelings either. I know he feels tired from all my demands. Sometimes I get the idea that he doesn't even want to come back to our room until after I've fallen asleep since he doesn't want me to ask him." Panda sighed. "But in the grand scheme of things, this isn't so bad, I tell myself. And I do know for sure that I want to marry him."

"I think you're right, sugar. It ain't a problem that you can't find a way to deal with." Rogue shook her head, caught up in memories. "I oughtta tell you about the times that Storm and I used to go to certain…uh, toy stores." She smiled, remembering. "We even talked Jean into coming with us a few times. She was hilarious. And man, was Jubilee excited when we first asked her if she wanted to come along."

"I know, I know, there's always that. But it's just not the same."

With that, the door to the bridge slid aside and the Professor and Angel entered. Rogue had to stifle a giggle at the thought that had the Professor possessed, say, Wolverine's hearing, he would have been privy to their conversation about taking young Jubilee to a sex toy shop years ago.

"Is it time already?" Panda asked.

It was. Charles and Warren were taking over their bridge duty shift. Rogue and Panda got up to leave, and then walked down the hall together.

"I wonder if they're combinin' bridge duty with a therapy session," Rogue remarked. Angel's depression had been starting to get severe – to the point where he knew he could use some help, and he had been working with the Professor.

We were about half way through our journey to earth. By this point, we were fairly certain that our revised cloaking device had to be working. If FOH could detect us, they would never have allowed us to get this far and would have sent ships after us.

"Got somethin' on the monitor," Wolverine said. He and I were on bridge duty.

I punched a few buttons and looked at my screen. "Looks like an uncloaked FOH ship." As per our standard procedure, I put the ship on yellow alert. The Professor and Beast joined us on the bridge.

"It ain't headin' towards us," Wolverine said as my fingers worked the keyboard.

"Very interesting," the Professor said, looking at the console.

As far as we could tell, it was an FOH starship and it was on the same course we were on---towards earth. Its shields were down and it was uncloaked. It was traveling at a speed slower than ours.

"Perhaps this is further confirmation that they are unable to detect us," Hank said.

"I would like to find out for sure," the Professor said. "If we continue on this course, we will soon be within telepathic range, I believe."

So we sat on the bridge and continued to follow the vessel. The gap between the two ships narrowed by the minute. We kept Freedom on yellow alert. Since they apparently couldn't detect us, we weren't in an emergency situation but we all needed to be on guard.

"This is very odd," the Professor breathed. "I sense no one. Nothing."

"What?" I asked.

He shook his head. "There are no lifeforms on board that FOH ship."

The four of us exchanged questioning looks with each other. I pressed a few more buttons on my computer to run a scan. After several more minutes passed, I said, "My readings are confirming what you're saying. Looks like no life forms at all on board that ship."

"I wanna know what the hell an FOH ship is doing on a course for earth with no one on it," Wolverine said.

"Yeah," I added. "Like how did it get out here? I mean….it hasn't been their practice to send un-manned starships. They're not into exploring, and if they were they'd launch a probe instead of sending a ghost ship."

"Perhaps we might investigate," Hank said.

"It could be a trap," Wolverine said.

"It is conceivable that it is an ambush of some sort….but unlikely given that no one is aboard the starship," Hank said. "Professor, I assume you would sense whether another telepath were blocking your powers?"

The Professor answered in the affirmative just as Storm and Rogue joined us on the bridge. The Professor then asked me to try to tap into the other ships' records, and I did so as everyone else debated and discussed what to do. Freedom continued to move closer and closer to this vacant ship. I had tuned out their discussion, engrossed in my work. After a while, I was successful in accessing the other ship's logs.

"The other ship is called the Fitzpatrick," I said. It apparently was named after a former US President, one who had been financially backed by FOH and who had basically functioned as their puppet. I'd been so far removed from earth happenings that I couldn't remember whether he was still the President or not but he was when we left. (Not that it much mattered; FOH controlled everything, including election results.) "Says here the Fitzpatrick was to have a crew compliment of 175 and were on a standard patrolling mission." I scrolled through the logs. "Nothing out of the ordinary here. The logs abruptly end…..just a few days ago."

"We need to be very cautious now and not allow our curiosity to get the better of us," Storm said. "I agree with Logan that this could perhaps be a trap set by FOH….or perhaps some tragedy of an alien nature fell upon the crew of this ship. If that is the case, it is best for us to avoid contact."

Hank stroked some of the fur on his face. I could tell he was in think-mode, absolutely itching to get the story on the Fitzpatrick. "What if we were to send a probe into the Fitzpatrick? Their shields are down. As our computers are linked, we could use a remote hook up to open an airlock on the other vessel and force it to accept the probe."

We tossed that idea around. Eventually everyone agreed that the risks of doing so were minimal. So we got to work.

The probe we sent had a video hook-up so we got to watch as it entered the Fitzpatrick. By this point, most of the others on board Freedom were clustered in engineering and watching the proceedings via the screen in there. I remained on the bridge watching our viewscreen with the Professor, Storm, Wolverine, Hank and Rogue. The probe easily entered an open airlock on the Fitzpatrick.

"No sign of any forcible entry," Storm observed as the probe made its way down a hall.

"My scan of the other ship confirms that," I said. "No weapons were discharged from the Fitzpatrick and it shows no sign of having been under attack. No damage to the ship."

The probe continued to float down one of the halls on board the FOH ship. I looked at the viewscreen. I was curious but not really concerned. I looked at the other faces on the bridge, battle-veterans all. They looked interested but not at all concerned. I was gazing at Rogue when I saw her gasp. "Oh dear," Storm breathed.

My head whipped around back towards the screen. Before us was an image of a man hanging from the ceiling. The man---or the corpse, I should say--- wore an FOH uniform. His body was bloody and dismembered. An arm was torn off. The expression on his face was one of horror. I had to turn my head away; I didn't want to see the details.

The probe continued on down the hall, oblivious to the macabre scene in front of it. As it traversed the ghost ship, it encountered corpse after corpse. Each one had been mangled and tortured. Walls and floors were awash with blood….and sometimes with body parts. Over the intercom, I heard someone in engineering retch. I wasn't ashamed to keep turning my head away. It was like a train wreck---you didn't want to watch at all, but in some ways you couldn't keep from looking. So I kept turning my head back towards the monitor though I didn't want to.

A lot of the men had had their clothes stripped off of them, or were at least stripped from the waist down. I wondered about that as the camera moved from cadaver to cadaver and I watched through my fingers. Finally the probe passed close enough by one man so that you could see what had happened to him. He had been raped.

As the camera showed us more and more corpses, we saw that this had happened to more and more of them. Objects had been stuck up their rears. Big objects. My stomach churning, I watched as the camera panned closely behind one man. The thing inside of him looked eerily like….like a human bone. Only a very large one.

By the time the probe arrived at the Fitzpatrick's bridge, I was feeling light-headed and ready to vomit. And then we saw that a message had been left on the bridge. It read as follows: `THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FUCK WITH MUTANTS.'

The others on the bridge began talking calmly. They realized that this had been the work of Psylocke and Marrow. Most of the objects stuck inside the men were bones that Marrow had broken off her own body. She and Psylocke had apparently undertaken quite an orgy of killing and torturing. Their cloaked shuttle had allowed them to sneak up to the ship, Psylocke's powers must have immobilized enough of the men. Our probe found that several of the men had been doused with paralyzing nerve gas---something the shuttle was capable of replicating and obviously something that would have immobilized the FOH crew as Marrow and Psylocke killed them.

I know that long, drawn-out discussions followed. I didn't really participate in any of them. I think I tried to take part in the first one, but I excused myself after a while. I know that the others debated and discussed the best, most moral course of action to follow.

Some felt we should not tamper with the Fitzpatrick---let it continue on towards earth just as we found it, with the message that Marrow and Psylocke had written. Others wanted to blow up the Fitzpatrick, as they felt that allowing it to return to earth would foster more hatred against mutants---if it were even possible for us to be a more despised group. The counter-argument followed that humans on earth already detest and fear us, and that FOH has been doctoring up footage against us for years now so what would this matter? It was pointed out that it was difficult to imagine life for mutants on earth getting any worse regardless of what we did with the Fitzpatrick. The argument was also made that the least we could do was allow the ship to return to earth----for the sake of the families of the dead FOH soldiers. A few argued that we could really use another starship, and we ought to take possession of the Fitzpatrick, have it cleaned out and used on our missions.

At last the others reached a decision. They decided to allow the Fitzpatrick to return to earth, but with two changes. One, they reduced the speed of the other ship so it would not reach earth's space until well after we would. They also removed the message left by Psylocke and Marrow. Obviously FOH would figure out that mutants were responsible for this anyway, and there was much debate over taking that message down (as there had been debate over everything), but that is what was decided. The others also decided to take some of the Fitzpatrick's supplies. It seemed that Marrow and Psylocke already stripped the ship of any excess dilithium and I'm sure also availed themselves of the ship's weaponry and such. We also sent a probe in to raid the supplies and deliver extra weapons, food, and such. We took one of their shuttles to replace the one Marrow and Psylocke stole as well.

The final outcome of all the debating pleased no one, of course. Some situations don't have happy endings.

Back on An'zhina, Jean and Scott were startled by banging on their door. It was in the evening, and they had been enjoying some quiet time, having put both their children down for the night. They had each been relaxing on their sofa, reading.

Scott gasped when he heard the knocking. Jean startled too, until she took an instant mental reading of what was behind the door. "It's okay," she breathed. "Come in, Jubilee," she said, pressing a button to use the com-link that could be heard in the hallway.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," Jubilee said, as she bounded into the room. "But I'm so excited that I have to tell someone! Lisman and I kissed!!"

Scott chuckled, happy to realize that the responsible adult Jubilee before him still had some of the charming traits of the 15 year old he fondly remembered. Her eyes shone brightly as she sat down on the sofa to give Scott and Jean the details. Scott really warmed to her---not that he ever didn't care for her as a niece. Somehow, though, they had grown closer in the past few years, perhaps because their daughters were such good friends.

"Well, tell us everything," Jean said, glad to put her book aside and hear of Jubilee and Lisman's date. Lisman was one of the mutants who had been rescued from the FOH camp in Beijing. In his late twenties, he had been extremely withdrawn and sullen, rarely even leaving his room. He had also been hampered by the fact that he didn't speak English. In the past few months, however, he had started to come out of his shell. Yunfei provided tutoring in English for those who wanted it, and Lisman had learned swifly. He had also taken part in some of the sessions led by Scott. Not long after the X-men left for their mission, Jubilee had started pursuing him.

"I'm so happy!" Jubilee enthused. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight. I tell ya, I'd been starting to think I'd **never** be kissed!"

Jean faced Jubilee and held the younger woman's hands in her own. "That is **so** wonderful! I am very happy for you."

"Me too," Scott said, smiling. "A first kiss is a beautiful thing." He remembered back to the first time he and Jean kissed. Jean turned her head to look at him and shared his smile. Scott thought that perhaps someday he would tell Jubilee that story, some time when she was not so preoccupied.

After talking for a while longer, Jubilee got up and said, "Well, I know it's way late for you guys and I should get going. I think I'm gonna hit the gym or something cause I'm serious about not being able to sleep! I just wish Wolvie and Bobby and the others were here to hear about this too!"

After Jubilee left, Jean smiled and said to Scott, "I also wish they could hear about this and see her so happy."

"Lisman's probably one of the few guys Wolverine wouldn't mind dating Jubilee," Scott remarked, wryly.

"I think so. I sense such goodness from him. I don't think he'd hurt a fly."

Scott smiled and shook his head, "I was tempted to say something like `Our little girl is growing up', but…."

"But she's probably 22 years old now and has a baby that she's been doing a good job raising herself," Jean finished for him. "She's already grown up."

"How time flies."

"Yes. Can you believe, Scott, that it's probably been 20 years since you and I met at the Xavier Institute?"

Scott moved closer to Jean and pulled his arms around her.

Jean-Paul was such an affectionate and loving partner. I mused how lucky I was to have him as we made love in my quarters one evening. We slowly kissed and caressed each other for a long time, making the malaise I'd been feeling evaporate as he ran his fingers down my chest. I felt languorous and very well loved. He lay on his back, and me on my side facing him. I reached back down towards his lips for another kiss, content to keep my lips against his for a very long time.

We eventually progressed from softly touching each other to working towards fulfillment. Jean-Paul and I rubbed against each other and pumped each other's, and our own, cocks. At one point, I mounted him and rubbed my hardness against his abdomen.

Afterwards, we lay together. I felt so content. I silently hoped he wouldn't get up to leave for a while. Sometimes he left right away. Often I could coax him to stay a little while, though he'd always end up donning a robe and going back to his own room. But that evening, he seemed to be feeling as mellow as I was. I became entranced with one of his arms, and let my fingers keep exploring it.

"You like that arm, amour?" he asked.

"It is a work of art," I said, feeling all the hard muscles and looking at the definition. The arm I was stroking was his real arm, not the replacement given by the Endarians. The two arms were practically identical though. "No painter or sculptor could have created something more perfect." My fingers traveled upwards and touched one of his ears. "Beautiful," I said. I gently tapped the point that his ear made on the top. "Are you and Jeanne-Marie elves?" I asked with a smile.

He returned my smile. "Perhaps she and I are descended from the fairy-folk of legend," he said, his voice sounding dreamy. He'd always had an interest in the fantasy realm and such, and I knew that his speculation was partly serious. Then a darkness came over his face and he sighed. "My poor sister. She is so sad."

"You are sad too," I stated. I knew it was the truth. Jeanne-Marie was heartbroken, and so was Jean-Paul. Sometimes when he and I spent time together, I felt that sadness lift but never permanently.

"I have to be. My sister is about to give up her only child, and he seems not to care one bit that he'll probably never see her again. Jeanne-Marie has already lost too much. I fear she will turn into a hard shell of a person."

I nodded. "With your love and your help, I think there is hope for her."

"Perhaps. But sometimes I think I am helpless to make her feel any better and that makes me feel miserable."

"Well," I began, cautiously, "you **are** helpless in some ways. I mean, you can't enter your sister's brain and force her to feel better." I paused. "All you can do is let her know you care about her and you're there for her."

Jean-Paul was quiet for a few moments. "You sound so much like your therapist," he said, switching to a light, bantering tone.

"You never even met her!" I responded, jokingly.

"Yeah, but there are times you sound like one. That is okay, mon coeur. I know there is wisdom in your words. What you say is true. But it just doesn't make me feel any better, you know?"

"Yeah," I said, running a hand down, along one of his shoulders. "I wish I could do something."

"You are a great comfort to me."

I glowed at his words and enjoyed them for a while. I then heard Jean-Paul shift a bit and was worried he was getting up to leave, but instead he was changing the direction of his thoughts. "So what do you think is the case with Psylocke and Marrow? Do you think they are lovers, like us?"

"I doubt it. Psylocke really seems to like dick."

"Jeanne-Marie used to as well, but she does not anymore. Not after what happened to her."

"Yeah, but you remember all the men Psylocke went to bed with on An'zhina," I reminded him.

"That is true," Jean-Paul admitted.

"I think that she and Marrow are on a mission together to inflict as much pain on FOH soldiers as they can. I think they're united in that way, but I don't think they're lovers," I said.

Jean-Paul was silent for a moment. He then asked, "Do you think there's a double standard, Bobby?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm talking about the way the others reacted when they saw the crew of the Fitzpatrick. I mean, it was gory and disgusting. And everyone had a visceral reaction to the fact that the men had been….raped. Yet how is it any worse than what the FOH did to my sister and to Jubilee and all the other women we love?" He paused and then continued, "I mean, yes, the crew of the Fitzpatrick was killed too….but FOH surely was going to kill the X-men as well, and they did succeed in killing most of Alpha Flight. Torture is torture."

I thought about his words for a bit. The past few days, I had really been trying to wipe away the memory of the massacre. "I don't think anyone necessarily compared it to what all our women went through, or were saying it was any worse than that," I said slowly. But there was something….some way that it **had** seemed worse. "Maybe what made it so hard to swallow was that **our** people were the ones doing the torturing. I mean, Psylocke had been an X-man for a while. Marrow hadn't been a team member for a long time, but she was mostly one of us and she seemed to be like abiding by our rules. Then for the two of them to duck out and do this. Maybe it shocked everyone to see two X-men do this."

"But you told me that Wolverine, Gambit and Rogue killed the FOH soldiers on board this ship once you X-men got control of it. I cannot imagine that the method they used for killing the soldiers was lethal injection. I'm sure they tortured them for a bit too."

I shook my head. The romantic, comfortable mood was now gone and the malaise had returned. "Yeah, I'm sure you're right," I finally said. "I honestly haven't thought of it much in the last few years. And I don't hold it against the three of them or really think they did anything too wrong. Those soldiers were going to kill all of us. And they tortured the women horribly. I think Rogue, Gambit and Wolverine just went berserk because it was so soon after…what FOH had done to us. None of the wounds have healed."

"Obviously Psylocke and Marrow's wounds have not healed either, eh?" Jean-Paul asked.

"Yes," I said, nodding. "Maybe that is partly why it was so gruesome to see what they had done."

Jean-Paul was silent for a bit. "Well, I think since we can't use our sensors to pick up the cloaked shuttle, the Professor should consider using his powers to track them down and stop them from doing anymore."

"I think he's thought of doing that," I said. I knew it had been discussed at a meeting but I either hadn't been there or hadn't been paying close attention. "He needs to rest though. He really looks taxed from using his powers so much. Besides, Marrow and Psylocke might be too far out of range. We have no guarantee that they're going to earth. Maybe they'll be like pirates and attack FOH ships, kill the crew and steal the dilithium." They had stolen most of the dilithium from the Fitzpatrick, having left just about enough for it to get back to earth.

I then shook my head. "This topic really depresses me."

"Unfortunately, there is a lot to be depressed about," Jean-Paul said. "Well, let us try to think of some happy thoughts. We have each other, no? I am so glad for you in my life, Bobby."

"And I, you." We reached over and kissed once more. "Oh!" I said. "If you want to talk of a happier topic….er-well, of a lighter topic, anyway. Guess what Rogue and Gambit told me this morning?"

I went on to describe it for Jean-Paul. I'd been working out with the newly-weds. Somehow---and I don't remember quite how---we got on the subject of Queen Marina. I remember bringing up how bewildered I still was at the change in attitude Marina exhibited towards the X-men. Rogue and Gambit had exchanged a look. I said something like, "Okay, what are you hiding?" Eventually Rogue revealed to me what she had found out at the last meeting of all the X-men leaders. I was pretty stunned to hear about Marina's request of Scott. I told Jean-Paul all this. And I then added what Rogue and Gambit had asked of me----to please not tell anyone.

"Perhaps it is not 100% surprising," he commented. "I mean, considering her request for sperm…."

"Yeah, I know. But I could see Scotty-boy totally flustered," I said, smiling.

"Me too," Jean-Paul said, though he didn't return my light-hearted tone. Poor guy. He was depressed. With that, a yawn escaped from his mouth. He always put his hand over his mouth when he yawned. I noticed little details like that. He never belched out loud either, though some of our colleagues did. He didn't even do it when he and I were alone. "It is late, amour. I must get back to my room now."

"You could stay here," I urged, looking intently at him and wishing he would for once decide to do this.

He looked at me and smiled. "You know that I like my own bed," he said simply. He then gave me a quick kiss before exiting the room in a flash.

The X-men continued to proceed towards earth, unobstructed. A few more weeks passed and no FOH vessels crossed paths with them. As they moved closer to their home planet, they were able to detect uncloaked FOH ships, but none of those ships changed course to intercept or reacted at all to their presence. During their last mission, the X-men had experienced the powers of some telepath blocking the Professor's ability. Charles sensed no such interference this time.

The X-men readied themselves for liberating the next FOH camp. They again selected a Mutant Containment Center at random and prepared for their mission.

The FOH soldier named Mark was called into the office of the commander one afternoon. Commander Blaine, who was in charge of the Mutant Containment Center to which Mark was assigned, sat at his desk and looked at Mark.

Mark forced himself to keep his face a blank slate and not give away any of his fear. Had he somehow been found out? Mark had not done anything to violate FOH policies….but he wanted to. He still had the idea of taking the "Mutie's First Time" rape video to the media, though he had not done so because he didn't know any sympathizers who had positions of power in the media. But maybe that mutant telepath who was working for FOH had sensed that Mark's thoughts were traitorous and had turned him in.

Fortunately for Mark, his fears were unfounded. "I have a special mission for you," the commander began. "We have discovered a whole family of muties and mutie lovers living just 40 miles from this containment center. And they have a connection to the X-men." The commander paused for effect. Any mention of the X-men was sobering to an FOH member. "We believe that Jean Grey's family contains more mutants and is hiding some of them." He didn't need to explain who Jean Grey was; the X-men were all notorious among FOH. "Our intelligence indicates that her parents are harboring at least three muties, including Grey's own nephew and niece. As you know, Congress just passed an amendment to the Mutant Containment Act, making it illegal to harbor unregistered muties. So we can do whatever we want, within reason. I want you to lead the mission to the Grey's house. Take however many Sentinels you need and capture the muties. And bring everyone you find in for questioning, including the parents. They have some explaining to do."

"Yes, Sir!"

I was very nervous. I tried to recall how many months it had been since we'd gotten this far….how long it had been since we stood, poised above a "Mutant Containment Center." Freedom was within earth's atmosphere, moving on impulse power towards the camp we had picked at random. It was quite ironic----the camp was located in the northern part of New York state. Not too far from our old mansion.

We stood in the transporter room----Storm, Wolverine, Gambit, Rogue, Hank, Colossus, Angel, Nightcrawler, Shaman, Jeanne-Marie, Jean-Paul, and myself. The Professor prepared to beam us down. We each had gas masks on as the Professor was prepared to dump large quantities of the Euphoria Vapor on the camp. Once the mission was completed, the Professor told us that he was going to attempt to enter the mind of the FOH President/CEO/General and plant some seeds of doubt.

As the ship moved closer and closer to the camp, I tried to chase away my fears. Last time we'd gotten this far, I had been captured. That couldn't happen this time. It wouldn't. At least I tried to reassure myself that way.

And then we were off. We got the signal that the cloak was dropped. Storm, Rogue, Angel, Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie flew out an airlock towards the camp. Nightcrawler teleported and the rest of us were beamed down as the Euphoria Vapor was dropped on the camp.

Two FOH soldiers stood inside the watch tower. The tower was virtually useless now, installed inside the camp out of tradition more than anything. FOH's sensor array had the ability to detect any intrusions. Besides, FOH had many mutant traitors living at this camp, including one very powerful telepath. Surely if any disturbances were coming their way, those alternate means would have picked up on it before any enemies came into visual range. So the two guards up top the tower weren't being exceptionally diligent. One played a hand-held video game, the other read a magazine.

Out of the corner of his eye, one guard saw….something. Something flying in their direction. And then a starship was uncloaking before their very eyes! White, puffy clouds of some gaseous substance poured down from the ship.

One guard signaled an alert. Both men put their gas masks on, but the substance seemed to be oozing right through their protective gear. They soon both keeled over----in laugher and happiness. As the two lay down laughing, they both felt amazing pleasure overtake their systems. Their weapons fell to the floor. Why had they ever wanted to fight in the first place?

Still, the alarm had been sounded and the traitor mutants were scrambling to fight back the intruders.

On board Freedom, Professor X and Panda sat on the bridge. Panda watched all the controls, her heart ready to leap out of her chest. This was torture. `I'm crazy to have ever wanted to be an X-man,' she told herself. The man she loved more than anything on the face of the earth was down there, his life in jeopardy if the mission failed. But she had to be ready. Panda's fingers hovered over the controls. As soon as she received signals from Storm and others, she locked into mutants and began beaming them to the infirmary.

The Professor scanned the area for General Smith, the man who was FOH's current General, President, and CEO. Charles remained as focussed as possible but he kept smacking his head against brick walls. Not only could he not locate Smith, but another brilliant mind was out there, thwarting him at every turn. Like two chess players, the other telepath was blocking and countering his every move.

It had all started so well. The Euphoria Vapor was working and mutants were being beamed to Freedom rapidly. The camp was a large one and we were told that Panda was experiencing difficulty locking onto everyone. I was sliding around on my ice slide, checking out the different barracks and ensuring everyone had been beamed up. I slid through one barrack and saw it was bereft of mutants; apparently they had all been whisked away to Freedom. I slid into another barrack and saw Angel flying about. He gave some coordinates to Panda and she beamed up the few mutants who were left in there. We encountered a few FOH guards who were composed enough to still want to fight us and fire on us. As soon as I saw one who looked sober enough, I shot out streams of ice and encased him. Angel and I hurried on to the rest of the camp.

And then suddenly, I saw **them** out of the corner of my eye. More traitor mutants, just like we'd run into outside of Beijing. A few I didn't recognize. But I did see Pyro and "Gorgeous Jorge", and a few others I knew of but hadn't seen in Beijing….such as Toad and Avalanche..

And the Euphoria Vapor didn't seem to be affecting them.

Pyro attacked me, and he and I battled each other. Fire versus ice. I was holding my own very well and about to overwhelm him, but Colossus came by. He got behind Pyro and pummeled him a few times. I wouldn't ever want to be on the receiving end of Peter's steel fists. Pyro collapsed to the ground.

But then suddenly, Gorgeous Jorge was behind Colossus. I opened my mouth to shout out a warning to the big guy, but in the flash of a second, Jorge had used his stretchy arms to place an inhibitor collar around Peter! Jorge was going to get me next.

Rogue instantly swooped over me, picked me up, and flew away with me. She did it just in the nick of time. I looked down and saw if she'd been a second or two later, Jorge probably would have been successful in getting a collar around me. As Rogue flew with me in her grasp, we heard Storm's voice over the communicator. "We have all the prisoners. Prepare---"

Storm was cut off by a much more menacing voice.

The Professor stared at the main viewscreen on board Freedom. An image was forcing its way through; Freedom was being coerced to accept a transmission. The Professor ceased attempting to reach the mind of Smith and now tried to reach whoever was running the transmission. He failed. The same telepath continued to block his every move. Simultaneously, three FOH starships were rushing towards Freedom, weapons blazing.

Panda gasped. The image on the screen showed several FOH guards surrounding Beast and Colossus. Both X-men had collars around their necks. Gorgeous Jorge had gotten to both of them. And FOH soldiers had guns pointed at the heads of them.

"X-men, cease all your hostile activities and surrender immediately," the stern voice said. "We give you 20 seconds. If you do not surrender in 20 seconds, we will kill one of our new prisoners. Beast or Colossus."

Voices rang out on the X-men's communicators. "Could this be some sort of trick? Maybe those aren't Beast and Colossus."

"No, I saw them get captured myself!"

"It's them! If it ain't, they'd have checked in by now."

"And I don't see them anywhere."

"We gotta quit yabberin' and do somethin'!"

The Professor could not even get through the blocking of the other telepath to ascertain whether the captives on this screen were indeed Beast and Colossus. However, his gut told him that they were, as did the messages he'd heard bouncing around the X-men's communicators. Charles then resumed his attempt to breach the minds of the FOH who held the two X-men prisoners. He had to get around the other telepath.

Meanwhile Panda attempted to fend off the FOH ships that were demolishing Freedom's shields. She did a commendable job, but one starship was no match for three. Several well-aimed phaser blasts damaged Freedom's engine core.

The deep FOH voice rang out again. "Ten seconds, X-men until we start the executions."

Panda continued to frantically work the controls on the bridge. Her dexterous hands flying, she fought the FOH ships as she tried to locate the X-men and beam them back aboard. She could not get a lock on Hank or Colossus. What was FOH using to block their transporters? The X-men had succeeded in beaming aboard 285 mutants but now were unable to get a fix on their own people. Panda forced herself to concentrate and keep her hands steady. She fought back her fear. `Oh my god what if something happens to Hank?…' she tried to cut off that line of thought and focus on trying to lock onto them.

Panda braced herself as the ship rocked again. Another hit. The Professor was entranced in his work, trying to get a fix on the minds of the FOH men who held Hank and Colossus captive. No one else on board Freedom had been trained on combat duty. Another array of photons shook Freedom.

Panda then saw the transmission on board the bridge flicker and instantly disappear. Above the din of the battle with the other starships, she heard chaos coming from the X-men's communicators. Glancing at the Professor, she saw that he was deep in concentration, apparently attempting to enter FOH minds. Panda then heard some whispered orders, sounds of scuffle, phasers. More chaos. `Thank goodness,' Panda thought. `Storm and the others have thought of a way to free-------'

The transmission from FOH re-appeared on the viewscreen. "Your time is up and the pathetic attempt you made to rescue your fellow muties failed," an FOH commander said. "We're carrying out our threat."

With that, the commander nodded to a solider. The solder pulled the trigger on his pistol and shot Colossus point blank in the head.

It was pandemonium after that. I felt the blood draining and began to feel dizzy. Dimly I heard the FOH guy say that if we did not surrender in 10 seconds, he would kill Hank as well.

We surrendered.

Colossus was dead.

I fainted.

Chapter 11

Chapter 13 


	13. Chapter 13

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 13

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 13

When I came to, I looked around and had an eerie sense of déjà vu. And then the panic set in. NO! It couldn't be. I felt the terrifying coolness of metal around my neck. A collar.

I forced myself to sit up. I sensed that not much time had passed. Hank was at my side, trying to help me. We were in a small room….behind a forcefield. I then heard footsteps and craned my head around, trying to see what was happening.

Commander Blaine was having a remarkable day. He'd done it. His men had captured the X-men. As soon as the evil mutants had collars around their necks and were placed in a cell, he had contacted his superior.

Smith was the name of FOH's supreme leader. He functioned as their President, CEO, and General. All of the Containment Center Commanders reported to him. Blaine was forced to use subspace to reach Smith as the leader was vacationing on Risa, a small and beautiful planet FOH had discovered and who's inhabitants allowed them to use as a resort….in exchange for a few of earth's natural resources.

"Excellent, Blaine," Smith said, talking with Blaine over sub-space and smiling at the image of his subordinate. "Excellent," he repeated. "The X-men captured at last. Is that all of them?"

"No, Sir," Blaine replied, glad he had just done a check against his files. "We're missing the ones called Cyclops, Jean Grey, Jubilee, Psylocke, and Banshee. It appears, though, that all the remaining X-men that we know of are here. Shall I begin the executions now, Sir?"

"No! I want to be there myself to do it." Smith's pulse sped up. He loved torturing mutants. And now, the worst mutants of all were finally in his grasp! He could hardly wait. His head swam at the thought of the screams he would hear, the pain he would inflict, the blood that would ooze from their wounds, the sounds of bones cracking and limbs being torn. He ran down a mental list of torture methods and thought about which ones he would implement first. He thought perhaps he would kill a few of them quickly and then the rest slowly. Smith resolved to check out his book on pain-inflicting equipment and mark the pages with the ideas he liked best. It would be an exhilarating way to finish his vacation.

Disappointment surged through Blaine. "Sir, is that wise? We know the X-men are very deadly and very crafty. Last time we had three of them in our custody, they were freed."

Upon seeing the look on his boss' face, Blaine winced, knowing he should not have made reference to the disaster on Ceti III. The leader in charge of that operation had been…"dismissed."

"We won't make any such similar mistakes again," Smith said curtly. "I will leave Risa tomorrow as planned. I can't get a transport here sooner anyway and it would take longer for one of our ships to get here." Smith's words rang true, Blaine understood. His commander could not reach earth any sooner. "I'll be back on earth in three days," Smith continued. "Keep the X-men in the cell and do not take them out for any reason. That will minimize any chance of escape." He paused. Leaving the mutants in the cell was the best way to ensure they would not escape, but Smith felt that Blaine deserved a reward for his work. He silently debated for a second or two. "Except that you may take one of the females out and do what you want with her. You've earned it and it will help get those mutant scum ready for their executions. Just be cautious. I'll be there in three days. Smith out."

Minutes after the conclusion of his conversation with his leader, Blaine walked to the cell in which the mutants were kept. He surveyed them. There were a few that he didn't know. A pink-skinned woman sat hunched over the dead body of the one called Colossus, crying hysterically. Smears of the giant's blood covered her hands and torso. A woman who resembled a large panda bear tried frantically to comfort the pink-skinned one. A young boy of about 8 restlessly paced around, looking bored.

The others he knew of through FOH intelligence. The crippled old bald man was the supreme mutant ringleader, one of the most wicked and depraved men ever to walk the face of the earth----Charles Xavier. The black woman with the white hair was called Storm. That bitch was supposedly one of their leaders. Blaine started getting an idea.

The other X-men in the cell were known as Wolverine, Gambit, Beast, Iceman, Rogue, Angel, and Nightcrawler. There were three others there too, members of Alpha Flight. Blaine dimly recalled that Alpha Flight had all been killed. But he then remembered that was not so----the X-men had rescued a few of them and they had been spotted at the attack on the camp in Beijing.

A few of Blaine's lieutenants were with him, running scans on the imprisoned mutants.

"Welcome, mutant filth," Blaine began. "I am pleased to tell you how completely you failed. We've re-gained our ship that you stole, and the hundreds of muties you abducted from our camp are now back, exactly where you took them from. That will teach you fools to ever mess with us again."

As Wolverine, Rogue, and others began cussing him out, Blaine ignored them in favor of his lieutenant. "Sir," the subordinate began, "that boy is not a mutant," he said, pointing at Stephan. "My readings show he does that carry that sinful gene."

Stephan perked up at being mentioned. Blaine gestured towards him. "You," he said. "What is your name?"

"Stephan Millot," the boy replied. His mother was shocked at the calmness she felt from him. He didn't seem phased at all; just eager to get out of the small cell.

"What are you doing with these muties?"

"These two freaks," Stephan answered, gesturing at Aurora and Northstar, "kidnapped me. I wanna go home!"

"Come here, Stephan. We'll take you home."

Blaine directed Stephan to the airlock, and the boy eagerly stepped towards it.

"I love you, Stephan!" Jeanne-Marie cried out in anguish. She'd known this moment was coming but hadn't expected it to be quite like this.

Stephan ignored her and, without looking back, stepped through. He was escorted away by two FOH soldiers. Northstar put his arms around his sister. Her body was shaking slightly but she shed no tears.

"Now then," Blaine began, "we have nothing but pure 100% mutie crap in this cell. We----"

Storm cut him off. "What do you plan to do with us?" She and the others had been whispering quietly before Blaine stood before them. Storm had thought for sure that FOH would kill them on the spot this time. And yet they hadn't.

"You're the one called Storm, aren't you?" Blaine asked. He didn't wait for a nod or an answer. "One of the leaders of the high and mighty X-men. A **female** leading a group of men. A dark-skinned one at that, leading whites. How ridiculous." He then paused. A chill went up and down Storm's spine as she saw Blaine look her over, his eyes traveling the length of her body. She knew what was coming next. "As they say, 'To the victor go the spoils.' Step through the airlock," he ordered.

The others in the cell exchanged looks with each other. Would it start happening all over again? They were back at the place of their worst nightmare. Gambit had his arms around his wife, and Hank had placed himself in front of where Panda knelt next to Elena, as if he could block the two women from the sight of FOH.

Storm heard the order and knew not what to do. In a couple seconds' time, she silently asked herself. `Should I refuse and display bravado? But he will only use the collar on my family until I accede to his wishes. But it also seems wrong to mutely follow his command.' She made her decision.

Storm looked him squarely in the eyes. "Fuck you," she said.

Bobby heard her and gasped. His sharp memory always had the ability to recall certain details, some obscure. He remembered well the last time the group was held prisoner of FOH, two and a half years ago now. The FOH leader had made the same demand of Jean, and she had responded in the same manner. Which in a way was shocking, as neither Jean nor Storm normally used profanity.

Blaine simply laughed and raised a collar control device. He used it to begin sending waves of pain through the bodies of the Professor and Gambit. Gambit slowly sank to the floor, and the Professor—who had been sitting on the floor---grasped his head in his hands, slumping forward.

Although experiencing excruciating pain, Gambit managed to cry out, "Don't….don't do what he says. Let-----" he broke off, gasping for air, unable to speak any more. The pain was so intense, the Cajun felt as if he'd soon pass out, something he welcomed. His body had experienced the mind-numbing collar torture before, but somehow he had forgotten how extreme the pain was. Rogue tried to comfort him, sinking to her knees with him and holding onto him.

Storm looked at Remy and Charles, and made another decision. FOH would only continue this until she went along with them. They'd have no qualms about doing this to everyone in the cell. Look at how willing they were to kill Colossus. Maybe if taken from the group, she would be able to find a means of escape. `Goddess help me,' she prayed soundlessly. `Give me strength to endure.' Taking a deep breath, she found her courage. `I survived this once and shall survive it again.'

Storm walked through the airlock into the waiting arms of three soldiers. Her hands were bound and body restrained using rope.

Wolverine watched her go. He knew he was going to break, fall down in a fit of mindless rage. "YOU BASTARDS TOUCH HER AND I'LL RIP YOUR SKIN OFF YOUR BODIES!" he yelled, his voice thunderous. A few of the FOH soldiers standing nearby felt shivers. They had surmised that the crew of the original ship which captured the X-men had not met peaceful deaths. "I DID IT BEFORE TO THE OTHERS, AND I'LL KILL YOU THE SAME WAY!" he continued to yell. "I'LL TEAR YOUR FUCKING BONES OUT ONE BY ONE! YOU'LL-----"

"Logan, be quiet," Storm said evenly, turning and facing him from the other side of the forcefield. "That's an order," she said, slowly and clearly. "Your rage isn't doing anyone any good."

Blaine stepped back and kicked Storm in the stomach. She doubled over in pain as Blaine told her, "Women don't order men around. Even if the men are only wimpy muties."

With that, the Commander snapped his fingers. A cot was brought in and placed directly in front of the forcefield. Blaine already felt himself harden. He was going to show that mutie whore her place. He was going to show all those scum who their superiors were. A new recruit brought him a pill and a glass of water. He usually needed the pill as he was unable to get an erection on his own---but not today. The very though of that bitch screaming underneath him had his blood surging with power. Blaine's subordinates used knives to tear Storm's clothing.

Blaine's second-in-command at the Containment Center was a man named Lieutenant-Commander Klinsky. He had been assigned to dole out appropriate punishment to FOH's telepath.

"You failed, Emma," he said, facing Emma Frost in her quarters. "You didn't detect the X-men until their ship was attacking this Center! Last time, you were able to fight them back when they were still in space. You failed," he repeated.

"I did not fail, Lieutenant-Commander," Emma replied evenly. "If it weren't for me, you would not have the X-men in your custody now. I fought back Xavier during the battle. Truth be told, I am still exhausted from it." Emma didn't like making such an admission, but her head throbbed and entire body ached with fatigue. Battling Xavier had been one of the most grueling tests of her strength. Her reserves were now depleted and she knew it would be a while before she fully recovered. The only reason she had been able to defeat Xavier was because he himself had been so exhausted. Were he ten years younger and as spry as he once was, she would not have had such success.

"And why didn't you tell us when they were in space?!"

"Because, my dear Gregory, I could not sense them," Emma lied. "For one thing, you and your cohorts force me to wear my collar most hours of the day. And for the few times it was off so I could perform my scans, Xavier must've found a way to block me from space. I don't know how. You know how powerful that man is. Or was," she corrected herself, thinking that by now the X-men surely have all been killed. But she then thought about it for a second, and realized perhaps they still lived. The FOH's leader, Smith was a man who loved to inflict torture on other human beings, and he was on Risa now. She guessed he wouldn't want to miss the torment of the X-men.

"Well, I guess the important thing is that we have the X-men now."

"So they are alive still? We're waiting for Smith to return before executing them?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that. Worry instead about pleasing me. I was sent to punish you….And I know just the type of punishment I want to inflict," he grinned, glancing at the whips and restraints on the wall of Emma's room.

Inwardly, Emma groaned. She was so tired now, but she had no choice. In exchange for her relative freedom, she was to make herself available to any of the higher-ranking soldiers who wanted her. She was always expected to **perform.** Although that day she had no desire to fake it again, she smiled as if enticed by the prospect of bedding Klinsky once more.

Here we are again, I thought, my stomach churning. I felt dizzy. Jean-Paul continued to have his arms around his sister. I caught a glance at Jeanne-Marie's face and her eyes looked dead.

Then another realization sank in as the guards dragged over a cot. They placed the cot just a few feet away from the forcefield, directly in front of the cell. No. Oh no. They were going to do it right then and there. They were going to force us to watch.

We all turned around so we'd face away from the forcefield, away from the entrance to the cell. Hank lifted up the Professor and turned him around, since he looked too wiped out from the torture to use his arms to do it himself. As the assault on Storm began, we silently started searching our surroundings for an escape. But there was nothing. The cell itself was maybe 12 by 10 feet. A tiny annex to the cell contained a bathroom, big enough for one person at a time to stand in it. No obvious exits and all the walls were smooth and made of a strong metal.

Wolverine was quiet during our strange examination of the cell, which surprised me. Apparently he was obeying Storm's order to be quiet. He pounded a few of the walls though, perhaps testing their strength and relieving his anger at the same simultaneously.

In fact, almost everyone was quiet. I wished I could shut my ears and block out the sounds of what was being done to Storm. She didn't make a noise but of course you could tell what was going on. My stomach churned and all those hideous feelings from our first imprisonment returned. The queasy feeling in my stomach, the fear, the caged-animal feeling. I forced myself to take several deep breaths, as I felt faint.

I did hear Nightcrawler praying quietly for Storm.

The other sound we could hear was Elena's soft sobbing. By that point, her body seemed weary, almost all out of tears to shed. But she did continue to cry and moan sporadically, hugging Peter's body to her. It hadn't sunk in at that point that I'd never see Colossus again. I wasn't thinking much about the future, since I knew it was possible that none of us **had** one any longer.

A furry hand lightly grasped mine. "Do not worry," I heard Hank say softly. I turned my head and saw that he held Panda's hand in his other. "We will escape." Hank somehow always knew what I felt and when I needed some comfort.

Nightcrawler stood not far from us (of course, in that cell, you couldn't really stand far from anyone.) He whispered, "God will take care of us. He always does."

"We'll find a way out of this," the Professor added.

Jean-Paul reached for my other hand and squeezed it. Since we'd awoken in this cell, he hadn't taken his arms off his sister. But just then he made his way over to me and gave me a look of solace.

It was very weird. I was really starting to feel reassured. And yet, mere feet away, one of our leaders was being raped before us. It was a perverse contrast. My head started swimming, either from the terror I still felt or the absurdity of the whole situation.

By then, we had ascertained that there was no immediate way to break out of the cell. The guards yelled at us to stop looking and began using the collar torture device to force us to cease. At that point, many of us just sat down, all of us still facing away from the atrocity that was being committed against Storm. Nightcrawler quietly prayed, and many joined him. I glanced at Wolverine and he looked….smoldering. By some magic, he'd found enough self-control to continue to follow the order Storm had given him. He paced around and I could practically see smoke billowing from him.

When Blaine was done with Storm, he allowed his two best officers to each have a turn with her. He saw one of the men inwardly groan; Blaine knew that this one didn't care for this part of being an FOH soldier. Too bad. Once they were done, he followed Smith's orders and returned Storm to the X-men by grabbing her hair and flinging her back through the airlock.

The rest of the X-men scrambled. Gambit offered her his duster to replace her shredded clothing. Though terrified at what might await her, Rogue immediately went up to her dear friend and offered comfort. Wolverine did the same.

Storm brushed them all aside and walked into the tiny bathroom. She had to get away from them. The bathroom consisted of a sink and a toilet, but it would have to do. She washed herself best she could, using toilet paper and cold water. When her body was as cleansed as she knew it could be given the amenities available to her, Storm donned Gambit's duster and strode out of the bathroom.

Her friends turned to her, holding hands and arms out to her, their words, expressions and body language offering whatever consolation they could provide. The Wind Rider held them at bay with a swift gesture, found a scrap of empty floor, and sat down. She closed her eyes, sat cross-legged, and began her prayers to the Goddess.

The others knew she wanted to be left alone. It was hard to comply with that request, given the number of people in the cramped cell. But they followed her wishes by not speaking to her and giving her the area of floor.

Conversation within the cell was limited. Occasionally Gambit could be heard murmuring reassuring words to Rogue. They sat together, Rogue in his lap. They didn't need to talk about what they both feared.

Northstar sat with an arm around his sister. She stared blankly at the ground, mentally trying to prepare herself. Occasionally they whispered together in French, reminiscing about some of their escapades, growing up in the circus. Bobby sat quietly on Northstar's other side, only understanding pieces of what the two French-Canadians were talking about. His thoughts were elsewhere. He wished Northstar would devote more of his attention to him.

And Elena's tears and moaning continued intermittently.

Several hours passed. The X-men were brought a jug of water and a bucket which contained cold, watery oatmeal. Without utensils, those who wanted to eat scooped some of the substance out of the bucket and ate.

FOH soldiers periodically stopped by the cell to taunt them and let them know that the day of their execution was drawing near. However, none of the soldiers would take the bait and reveal any specifics to the X-men, no matter what questions they asked or how they tried to pry the information out.

"Time for you to do another scan, Emma. With all these X-men in custody, we gotta be sure there aren't any more muties on the way to free them."

"Who do you expect could be coming to rescue them?" Emma asked, her tone flat. "Sounds like you have all the X-men."

"Not all of them. You can never be sure enough. Now then. Let's get to it"

As nearly every day, Emma sat while dozens of FOH soldiers placed guns on her as her collar was removed. They went to such lengths to ensure she would not use her powers against them. Several men were in the room with her. Others had remote guns trained on her, and the men operating those guns were in various locations, which were unknown to Emma.

Emma didn't understand why they made all the fuss. In the many months she'd been their prisoner, she had not tried to escape. Why would she? FOH gave her wealth and luxury; she lived a better life than virtually every other mutant on earth. If it meant submitting to sex with the higher ranking FOH officers, what did it matter? Emma liked sex and some of the men weren't half-bad (though she was truly tired of Klinsky.) She knew the men preferred her to the pseudo-comatose things in the camps. But the bottom line was wealth and posh surroundings. Emma loved those things more than anything else on the planet, and that's what FOH gave her.

Emma shut her eyes and began her scans. No….no chance of escaping, even if she wanted to. How far could she get before someone overtook her? There were limits even on her powers and FOH could overwhelm her. There was no safe harbor to flee to anyway. She continued scanning, searching for any un-collared mutants.

The telepath almost always kept her facial expression and tone neutral. That particular day, that practice served her well. Emma nearly gasped when her mind tapped against that of another telepath. Psylocke. The two women had met a few times, though they did not know each other well. But one telepath rarely forgets the mental signature of another. How close Psylocke was to earth---or whether she'd already reached earth---Emma did not know. But in telepathic terms, she knew Psylocke was near.

Emma quickly made a decision. She flashed a brief message into Psylocke's mind. Just enough to let her know what had happened.

Emma had no love for Xavier or for any of the X-men. They had been sworn enemies back when Emma was with the Hellfire Club, before so many of her colleagues had been killed. But a nagging voice in the back of her mind told her it would not be a good thing if Xavier were to be killed. Her life was not going to get any better if Xavier were killed and it might, in fact, get far worse. That was why she had not revealed his presence from space to FOH.

`Well, I've told Betsy Braddock the situation,' Emma thought. `She can do what she wants from here.'

After not long, Emma informed the soldiers that her scan had revealed nothing. Her collar was promptly replaced. `It'll be interesting to see what happens,' Emma thought to herself.

FOH were basically leaving us alone, for some reason. They didn't remove any one else from our cell. It was eerily like last time I had been a prisoner along with Wolverine and Gambit. They hadn't even taken us out of the cell until we were about to reach our destination. This time, we kinda got the idea that we weren't on a starship----none of our surroundings indicated one, especially not from what we could see beyond the forcefield. And we didn't think any of us had been out long enough for them to get us in a starship. The guards didn't give us any information but we thought maybe they were waiting for someone to arrive. Not knowing was really hard.

But actually not as hard as it should have been, maybe. I astounded myself at how calm I was. I wasn't freaking out. In fact, I kept thinking that we'd find a way out. The last two times I had been a prisoner of FOH, we'd escaped or been rescued. I kept thinking it would have to happen again. We are the X-men.

Okay, sorry if that sounded corny. But that was what went through my mind.

I couldn't tell how Storm was doing. She sat down, saying very little but otherwise behaving as normally as possible. By that point, I'd known Storm for over two and a half years. We had spent quite a bit of time together. My gut tells me that when she's upset, she chokes it all down. Forces it down like a medicine you don't want to take but have to. And she has a way to flush it all out of her, I thought and I wasn't sure how exactly she did it, though I guessed that praying and meditating and working and helping others all had something to do with it. I'd never broken Storm's confidence by revealing that one night on the Paradise Planet where she'd had a nightmare. I knew she battled her inner demons, like we all did, but I felt that she preferred to battle alone.

Nevertheless, sitting in that cell, we all gently approached her at one time or another but she shrugged us off. I wasn't surprised and we had to respect her wishes.

The solders came up to us once and told us to place Colossus's body through the airlock. "We don't want it to start to stink and we're going to throw it in the dumpster. Where all mutant trash belong," a soldier said.

Once again, like caged animals, we had no choice. FOH started using the collar on Elena and Jeanne-Marie to force us to obey their orders Watching Hank and Logan hoist the corpse through the airlock, I felt numb. Peter's death hadn't registered yet. I did not believe that I'd never see him again; I did not then understand he was dead. I knew it at one level but I wasn't absorbing it.

I also knew that it would hit me like a ton of bricks when the time was right. When (and I believed it would be `when' and not 'if') we got out of there, I knew I would start to feel the loss of Peter.

After the torture from the collar device, Elena sat shaking and looking numb.

Jean-Paul and I didn't talk much. A lot of times we sat discreetly holding hands though. There wasn't much conversation in that cell. We all seemed to be bracing ourselves for more, but we didn't know what they would dish out at us or when.

Mark drove the FOH vehicle back towards the camp. With the aid of the Sentinels, he had acquired what he came for. This new make of Sentinels were equally ruthless towards mutants but far better controlled by their masters. Mark had encountered some resistance at the household of John and Elaine Grey. The Sentinels had quashed it.

The members of the Grey household now sat in the back of the vehicle. All were bound with chains and all had collars on their necks, though John, Elaine, and their daughter Sara were not mutants. The others in the household had been.

There were Sara's mutant children---Gail, who was 13 and Joey, age 11. They were young for their mutations to have manifested themselves----however as he drove the vehicle, Mark speculated that perhaps it was due to the fact that they had a mutant Aunt. As far as Mark could tell during the investigation, Gail's only mutation consisted of her unusual appearance. She did not seem to have any remarkable powers. As for Joey, he had some problem with his eyes. Mark was about as well trained as any FOH soldier in diagnosing mutant powers, which meant he knew next to nothing. He was relieved when the collar was placed around the boy's neck, lest lasers start to shoot from his eyes or something along those lines.

The Greys had been harboring two other mutants. One was a 24 year old man by the name of Sam Guthrie, though he was also known by the alias Cannonball. He had the ability to fly. The other was an 18 year old named Hector Rendoza, AKA Wraith. Rendoza's mutation was horrifying. His skin was transparent, allowing everyone to view his internal organs. Even someone like Mark, who knew deep down he was a mutie-sympathizing traitor, had to turn away in disgust when looking upon the young man's face. The site of him was truly revolting. Mark did not know that Hector had narrowly escaped being lynched by his former neighbors and had fled to the house of ones who were rumored to be supportive of mutants.

The seven people who Mark (and a few Sentinels) had arrested sat quietly in the back of the van. The Sentinels were no longer needed once the mutants had collars around their necks, so they had flown back to base. Suddenly, Mark felt the vehicle lurch. It sounded like a flat tire. He cursed, stopped the van, and opened the door to get out.

**Thwack!**

Mark was attacked out of nowhere. He was hit square on in the face by a heavy, blunt object. He was hit again in the stomach, and his gun was removed from the holster before he could reach for it. As he doubled over in pain, his hands were placed behind his back and bound with rope. Mark tasted his own blood; his assailant must have dislodged a tooth or two.

Mark was soon dragged into the back of his van. He felt the vehicle being driven off towards the side of the road, away from any traffic----though there had been little or none on the street they'd been on. The prisoners in the back of the vehicle were as befuddled as he was. After not long, his captors opened the door to the back of the van and stood before him.

The FOH soldier blinked a few times. Before him stood two women. Both looked fierce, though one was especially so. Although not tall, her compact body was muscular. She had shorn hair, a scar on her face and a bloodlust in her eyes. She also had some substances protruding from various areas of her body-----her chin, back, sides, arms, and legs. The other woman appeared Asian and had exquisitely beautiful features, unlike the first woman. However, she looked equally livid and deadly.

"Give me a reason I shouldn't bludgeon you to death right now," the women with the things sticking out of her skin demanded.

Mark swallowed. "Don't kill me!" he said. "I'm on your side!"

"Really?" the other woman asked. "Is that why you're wearing that rapists' uniform and transporting these innocent people to one of your torture-and-death camps?" She looked around. "What did this elderly couple ever do?" she asked.

Marrow took a menacing step towards Mark. "Wait!" he said. "Maybe I can help you! Did you know that the X-men have been captured?"

"In fact we did know," Psylocke said. She paused. "You are going to help us." She then took another look around the van and took a good look at some of the other people. "Do I know you?" she asked the Greys. She had been at Jean and Scott's wedding years ago.

"Yes!" Sara said, recognizing Psylocke from the same event. "I'm Jean Grey's sister! Sara. And these are our parents and my children," she said, gesturing with her handcuffed hands. "You're an X-man, aren't you?"

"I was," Psylocke answered. Simultaneously, Elaine asked, "Is Jean alive?"

"Yes. She's alive and well," Psylocke answered. "She and Scott are living on An----on a distant moon where the X-men set up their base. They have two children now." She said the words without spite even though years ago she had wanted Scott for herself and had resented Jean. To Psylocke, that was a lifetime ago and she had been another person. She no longer wanted anything that Jean had.

"So are they not with the X-men that have been captured?" John asked, alarmed at having heard that the X-men were in FOH custody.

"No. They stayed back on our….base."

"Can you take us to them? I'd give anything to see Jean again, as long as we can all stay together too!"

Marrow and Psylocke looked at each other. Marrow spoke. "If it fits in with our plans."

FOH's leader Smith had boarded the transport vessel and was on his way to earth. He looked at his timepiece. Just under 22 hours now till earth. This trip was passing agonizingly slowly, keeping him away from his merriment.

He had gone through his book of torture methods and had it all planned out. He was going to start with the bald man, the devil who had formed the X-men. Part of the fun would be watching the other X-men's reactions as he suffered. Smith could barely sleep with the excitement. 22 to hours to go!

Being the supreme leader of the Friends of Humanity had such perks!

"I still don't know why I let you talk me into this, Psylocke. This is bullcrap. We didn't go on this mission to form a damn rescue squad. We could've stayed in space, hijacking Fuckers on Heroin ships."

"I told you, Marrow. We might not be X-men anymore but what good is it gonna do if Chuck and the others all die? Life for mutants will get even worse than before."

"Ain't possible."

"It **is** possible for things to get worse and you know it. We'll just help with this jailbreak and then get back to what we were doing."

"If we don't get caught in the process." A sigh. "I think you still have some ties to the X-men. You care about them. Maybe you still care about your blue-skinned, winged former boyfriend."

A voice as cold as ice. "I don't care about anything besides paying back as many FOH slime as possible." A pause. "Though think of everything the X-men did for us. They rescued you from that FOH camp. Think of everything Storm did for you."

"Yeah, yeah. Storm is cool. It's worth it to try and save her. But I still think we're runnin' a big risk of getting caught."

"We won't! We didn't get caught during the raids on those two ships." A pause. "Besides. Now we have an ugly guy with see-through skin to help us."

The two women chuckled.

The FOH commander named Blaine turned over the idea again and again in his mind. Smith was not due to arrive yet for another 19 hours. He had such a desire to do something but it ran counter to Smith's orders. Should he do it and risk punishment?

But Smith would be so happy once he got his hands on the X-men, he wouldn't care about Blaine's one act of insubordination, right? `Besides, he said that I could take one of the females out and do what I want with her,' Blaine thought. `He didn't say how many **times** I could remove a prisoner from the cell. He just said to be cautious when doing so. So many of my men have asked for this and they deserve such a reward.'

Blaine continue to rationalize. The prisoner he wanted to torture wasn't female….but by FOH standards he was, practically. Yes. It could be justified that way since they certainly didn't regard him as a man.  
  
With a resolute nod of his head, Blaine left his spacious office and found those of his troops who wanted to go in on this. They were all such good men and they really had earned it.

I had been dozing. I can't say I **slept**. You didn't really sleep when you were a prisoner of the Friends of Humanity. Sometimes though you would lose consciousness and fall into that very light, dreamless sleep. It was never a restful one though and even while unconscious you knew where you were.

Suddenly, I heard or sensed something and I regained consciousness. I rubbed my bleary eyes and reached a hand behind me to rub my sore neck and shoulders. I wished for some mouthwash since my mouth tasted as if a bug had died inside it. At least we had a bathroom this time. I then focussed on looking at the forcefield and saw that there were about five soldiers standing outside our cell.

They had a look on their faces that I had seen before.

My blood froze. I looked from Storm to Jeanne-Marie to Rogue. Then I glimpsed at Panda and then Elena.

"Hey, where's our pretty boy?" one of the soldiers started it by asking.

"There he is. The one with the black-white hair," another said, pointing. "He used to be some big shot. A **gay** sports hero. Out and proud. Right, faggot?" he taunted, looking at Jean-Paul.

A few images flashed in front of my eyes for a few seconds. I remembered the years I'd lived in San Francisco and wished that Jean-Paul and I lived there now. Housing and everything else was exorbitantly expensive but we'd have found something we could afford. Something where we could at least have a window sill garden, or perhaps a patch at a community garden. Weekends would have been spent lounging around the beach together, eating sweetrolls and watching the seagulls. We'd walk around the city, holding hands and deciding which play to see next, which fine restaurant to dine at, which expensive clothing store to try next. Why the hell did I live as an X-man?

They started ridiculing him in earnest now as I sat back and trembled. The homophobic insults spewed forth with occasional anti-mutant remarks as well. I tuned out their words and stole occasional glances at Jean-Paul. He sat stoically and quietly, not looking at them. I guess he knew it was pointless to fight back. I didn't look at the soldiers either; I looked down at my shoes.

The soldiers then said one thing in particular that really scared me. They said something like, "We oughtta just turn you over to the Centers for Disease Control. They're locking up all the faggots, quarantining them to stop you queers from spreading AIDS around anymore. The President passed an Executive Order on that." I wondered if what they said was right. Most of us hadn't been watching the news from earth during our trip to earth this time; we'd been so busy training. My dream about living in San Francisco with Jean-Paul was even more farfetched now.

And then the most chilling words. "Come here."

Jean-Paul hesitated for a second. The soldier then lifted the collar control device and unleashed it at Jeanne-Marie. She howled in pain, grasping at the collar as if that would somehow lessen the suffering. After a few short seconds, she could no longer grasp it, was screaming in mindless agony. Her brother rose to his feet and walked over the airlock. The soldiers restrained him and took him away.

I watched him go. I then folded my head in my hands and shook with dread and misery.

Why him and not me? Maybe they didn't know I was gay. From what I recalled, that fact was in my files somewhere but buried a bit. Jean-Paul, however, was not at all closeted. Years ago, when Alpha Flight had been at its peak, he'd called a press conference to announce that he was gay. He had been a well-known gay superhero.

Should I have done something dramatic and heroic? Leapt to my feet and yelled, "Take me instead!" But that just would have gotten us both killed. Jean-Paul wouldn't want that.

Jeanne-Marie looked at me for a second. I shivered. For the instant that our eyes met, I **knew** what she was thinking. I saw the window to her soul. She was thinking that she has now lost everyone who has meant anything to her, and she was thinking that if she gets the chance, she is going to kill herself.

I felt an arm anchoring itself around my shoulders. I grasped onto Hank for support and shivered in his arms. In the distance, I heard Nightcrawler softly praying, "Dear God, I pray that you let Northstar be safe and sound, protect him from the soldiers, give him strength and courage…."

Mark drove the van towards the entrance of the camp. "Remember what I told you," he whispered. "Security has been stepped up since all the X-men are here."

"Just keep driving," Marrow muttered. She had one of her discarded bones trained on his back, a bone which had been honed to reach a point as sharp as any knife.

From the back of the van, Psylocke randomly scanned several minds. "There's a lot of commotion and nervousness here."

"I'm sure it's due to the X-men being here. Everyone remembers that they managed to escape from one of our ships. People are afraid of them."

"They should be."

Mark did not know that the hustle also had to do with the impending arrival of their leader, Smith. He now reached the guard post. As Marrow pressed the tip of her bone a bit more firmly against his back, he exchanged the proper entry code with the guards and was allowed in.

Marrow's bone was an extra precaution only, more for Marrow's enjoyment than anything else. Psylocke could easily take command of Mark's mind if she needed to, and she scanned it every other second. She had been surprised. Mark had been telling the truth when he said he was on their side. He **wanted** them to succeed in rescuing their former teammates. Mark hated FOH, hated what they did to mutants. Psylocke probed a bit deeper. Hated himself too.

And in Psylocke's mind, he had reason enough to.

Mark drove the van to the receiving area for prisoners. "You gotta do your work here, now," he whispered to Psylocke.

"I know, little man. And I'm going to," Psylocke replied.

The powerful telepath easily seized the minds of the guards by the receiving area. Numbed them so they would think nothing of one FOH soldier with a handful of unrestrained mutants and a few non-mutant humans. Psylocke compelled those who were near the computer to walk away and busy themselves with something else. She, Marrow, and Mark approached the computer as the Greys and the two mutants they had been harboring exited the van and stood at a distance.

The Greys had been uncertain what to do but John kept whispering that he trusted Psylocke and that she would take them to Jean. Elaine shook with nervousness. What if they were discovered? But it was hard to imagine things getting any worse – they had been abducted, tied up and put into a van heading for a concentration camp --- and she held on to a fervent hope that she could see Jean again. With these two strange mutant women, it now might be possible. Elaine glanced at her two grandchildren and noticed that they were not afraid. They actually seemed in better spirits than when they had been cooped up inside that house. Sara was breathing deeply but not looking as freaked out as most would be.

Sam Guthrie/Cannonball and Hector Rendoza/Wraith stood by, ready for action. They had made an offer of assistance to Psylocke and Marrow, and the former X-men knew they might have to take the guys up on that.

"Well, this is easy," Marrow said, craning her head around Mark's neck and reading the computer screen.

"Yes," Mark said. "The X-men are here," he pointed a spot on the screen. "Their ship is over here, in this hanger. It's gonna be pretty heavily guarded but…."

"All we need to do is get to their cell and get the collars off the X-men," Marrow said, looking at Psylocke.

"Yes," Psylocke answered. "We'll return Jean's family to them and then be on our way. The X-men can take it from there."

"And we'll have repaid any favors we owe them and can get back to **our** mission," Marrow said. She found herself grinning. She was actually liking the thought of what they were doing but, even more, anticipating returning to their pirating fun.

Hector listened, his pulse pounding. The X-men! He had heard of them, heard of these legends. And of course he knew that all the FOH propaganda calling them evil was a pack of lies. He had dreamed of the X-men….a place where a freak like himself might be free, might find some acceptance. During their van ride, Cannonball had whispered a bit about the X-men to Wraith. Hector was in awe that Sam had actually met them. He also found himself questioning Cannonball's sanity at having turned down their offer to join. Of course, that had been years ago and Sam said he regretted it.

`And if we don't killed just now, I might meet them too,' Wraith thought.

Chapter 12

Chapter 14 


	14. Chapter 14

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 14

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 14

It was silent in our cell. Those who had been crying had long since ceased sobbing. Nightcrawler's whispered prayers had been ended by a guard who used the collar device on Kurt to compel him to stop. Kurt's lips were still moving though no sound came from his mouth.

I just sat holding Hank's hand, trying in vain to think of anything but Jean-Paul, anything besides what they were doing to him that minute. Panda had been sitting with Hank's other arm around her but I noticed that she must've moved at some point and was now sitting on my other side. I think big, cuddly, warm people with fur on their bodies will always mean comfort to me. Maybe they always have. My parents did have a St. Bernard when I was a kid, maybe that's why. I didn't have a comb on me but I was using my fingernails to scratch my two furry friends and I think they liked it.

I saw out of the corner of my eye that our two guards suddenly jerk upright as if standing at attention. They then strode to the side of the wall. I blinked and then saw Psylocke and Marrow outside our cell.

Psylocke and Marrow!

As one of the guards handed over the keys to the cell and the collar control device, I noted that there were several other people there with the two former X-men but I was too stunned to really take it all in.

Psylocke pressed a few buttons and that was it. Our collars popped off. We leapt to our feet.

And then it was pandemonium. Our forcefield was dropped. I heard Psylocke talking to Storm, pointing and telling her where Freedom was being housed. Marrow said something like she was repaying the favor she owes us. She and Psylocke then ran off, though Angel called after Psylocke. She didn't respond and they were gone in an instant.

And then there were the people with Psylocke and Marrow. I guess most of them were Jean Grey's relatives and they asked the Professor about her. The Professor said that we would take them with us. There were also two other mutants with them---one of whom the other X-men knew and the other who looked ghastly.

There was also a young guy in an FOH uniform. Seconds after Psylocke and Marrow made their exit (where they went, I have no idea), other FOH soldiers came, some of them yelling that this guy was a traitor. But now that we had our powers back, we had no trouble holding off the soldiers. I froze half of them in a block of ice and Gambit threw charged cards at the others to get them to run.

"This way to Freedom!" Storm pointed, following the directions that Psylocke had specified.

"What about Northstar?" Jeanne-Marie and I asked at virtually the same time.

"He is this way," the Professor gestured. His powers come in handy.

"Let's get him and get to our ship!" Storm said.

So off we went, all of us suddenly charged up and in battle-mode. We didn't see the Professor's hoverchair anywhere so Panda carried him. (She was strong---not super-strong---but strong enough and she had been lifting weights too.)

"Down that hall to the left!" the Professor pointed. I was running as fast as possible but it still wasn't fast enough so I made an ice slide. Jeanne-Marie, using her super-speed, burst ahead of the group. We encountered several soldiers on the way but they were toast. With our powers back, we were too strong. I heard the whining of an alarm off in the distance.

"Remember to stick together!" Wolverine yelled. "We can't let 'em get their hands on even one of us!"

We were a big group, especially with the eight extra people we'd picked up. The guy in the FOH uniform was sticking with us. The soldiers we ran into kept recognizing him and knew he had betrayed them. Two of the people we'd picked up were Jean's elderly parents. Rogue picked them both up and flew them along with us to help them keep pace.

I caught up with Jeanne-Marie. She was calling out her brother's name. When she saw me, she turned. "Behind this door!" she said.

It was locked. I turned my head and Wolverine was beside us in a second. He unsheathed those claws and tore the door down.

We charged through the door. My heart stopped when I saw.

Jean-Paul was alone, laying on the floor and naked. There was blood everywhere. He was unconscious.

Or was he?

"Is he alive?" Jeanne-Marie asked, her voice throaty and trembling.

Wolverine sniffed a few times and then went right up to Jean-Paul, checking his neck for a pulse. "Yes," he said.

Hank had caught up to us by now. "We should not attempt move him," he said. "I suspect he has some severe injuries."

"What do we do?" I asked. My voice and hands were shaking.

"If we can get back to the ship, we can beam him aboard," Wolverine said.

By then, Storm and most of the others had caught up with us. They were battling some FOH soldiers outside as we stood in that room and debated. We eventually decided to bring Jean-Paul with us. We didn't want to separate and we couldn't leave Jean-Paul behind, otherwise FOH might use him as they had with Colossus and Hank, as bait to force a surrender.

So Hank hoisted him over his shoulder and we went on our way. I focused all of my energy towards getting to that ship and getting out of here. I didn't want to think of what condition Jean-Paul was in.

The X-men reached the shuttle bay where Freedom was being kept. As Panda held onto him, the Professor focussed his abilities on getting inside the minds of the FOH troops and turning them away from fighting. Those who he couldn't reach were held at bay by Storm's bolts of lightening, Iceman's shots of ice, Gambit's charged cards, and others impediments.

By the time FOH had mobilized the mutants who aided them and gotten the Sentinels cranked up, the X-men had boarded Freedom. A few FOH soldiers had been inside the ship. Most of them ran when they realized what was happening. Those who did not run were beamed off the ship by the X-men.

"What do we do with this guy?" Wolverine asked, gesturing at Mark.

"He helped us!" Sara said, clutching her children's hands in her own. "He helped make the rescue possible."

"Yeah, he's on our side," Cannonball added. "Psylocke scanned his mind and said that was the truth."

Mark was more terrified than he'd ever been in his life. His fellow FOH members knew he was a traitor. He'd been seen by too many others, soldiers whom the X-men had left alive. Even the guards at the post who had let his van in would report him. There was no turning back and nowhere on earth that would house him.

But now he stood before the X-men. Surely they detested him. They would despise him even more had they known his brother was one of the men on board the ship which had kidnapped them. He couldn't live among mutants either. There simply was nowhere to go, nowhere to turn. He had run out of choices.

"There's only one thing I can do," Mark said somberly. He reached for his pistol and brought it towards his temple.

"No!" Xavier said. The weapon flew from Mark's hand and landed on the floor with a thud. "We will offer you haven with us."

"We don't have time to debate!" Wolverine said. "You comin' or not?"

Mark nodded and then ran up the ramp to Freedom with the others. "You just make sure you take that uniform off, boy," Wolverine added.

As three FOH starships rushed towards Freedom, the vessel cloaked itself. Storm took the helm and maneuvered the ship out of the bay. As soon as it had cleared the hangar, Storm put Freedom into warp drive.

The X-men tried to swoop back towards the camp and rescue some of the mutants. But now four FOH vessels patrolled it. Dropping their shields to beam up mutants would have been too risky. The Professor attempted to enter the minds of a few of the starship captains but he again encountered interference from the telepath working for the Friends of Humanity.

He then changed his approach and tried to reach the mind of the leader of the FOH. For whatever reason, the telepath who had been blocking him did not prevent him from tapping into the mind of General Smith.

Xavier was aware of some arguing and debate going on behind him, as Wolverine, Storm and Rogue discussed their next course of action. No one wanted to leave earth empty-handed yet again, failing to have rescued more mutants. But now it seemed that every FOH starship was being called back to earth and the ships swarmed around. Had it not been for their enhanced cloak which hid Freedom from the other vessels, the X-men surely would have been shot down by now.

The Professor then turned to face the group. He had been silent and focused but within an instant's time, he was able to recall the conversation among the three that he had tuned out. "I agree with Storm as well," he said. "But do not despair. Our mission perhaps was not a total loss. I was able to make contact with the mind of General Smith." He paused. "Smith is the leader of the Friends of Humanity. I entered his mind, as we planned, and I planted some seeds of doubt. I made him experience some of what his victims felt. I did the same for a few of his other Generals. Smith, I think, might be too far gone. But I might have had some success with the others. I know

you all feel intense disappointment. But if enough high-ranking FOH officers change their minds, the impact of this could be staggering."

"You are right, Professor," Storm said.

Wolverine took a deep breath. He was angry and frustrated that their mission had gone so poorly, and he was outraged at their imprisonment and the torture of Storm. He was also furious with himself for a reason he could not explain. Perhaps he was angry at himself for being afraid. He feared that should they engage FOH in battle or attempt to beam up more mutants and lose that Storm, or one of the others, would again be raped. Fortunately, what the Professor had said provided a modicum of solace.

"Perhaps we can go back," Storm continued. "Let us wait it out a few days before we swoop back towards earth. Maybe we can try to rescue another camp while their attention is diverted."

The group agreed to that idea. Charles then used his telekinesis to move himself closer to Storm. (During the rush to leave the FOH base, they had not been able to retrieve his hoverchair. For the time being he was be using his telekinesis to move about.) "Storm," he began quietly, "I am sure that the rest of us can handle guiding the ship now. Why don't you take a rest?"

Storm prepared to protest---there was so much to do---but she realized the truth of his words. She wanted a proper bath and some quiet time to meditate and pray more than anything. The X-men were out of the woods now. Storm silently nodded and rose to leave the bridge.

Wolverine followed her with his eyes as she exited the room. As she walked past him, he caught a whiff of the stench from the FOH soldiers who had assaulted her. He swallowed his rage. For a split second, Wolverine considered following her but he stopped himself. He knew Storm. She would want to be alone.

The Professor, Rogue and Wolverine then held down the bridge, keeping their eyes on the monitors and preparing to defend the ship at any provocation. Charles was alert for signs of the telepathic mind that had interfered with him before. He caught no hint of his fellow psychic any longer.

Shortly after Storm left the bridge, Gambit entered it, pushing a wheelchair. "Here you go, Professor," he said. "Dis won't be as good as your hoverchair but the replicators didn't have a pattern for anyt'ing like dat. Dis will get you around at leas'."

"Thank you, Gambit. It is more than adequate," the Professor said. He floated himself onto the seat. This would take some getting used to. His hoverchair had acted almost as an extension of his own body. This wheelchair was not much more advanced than ones used decades ago; it required the user to push the wheels with their arms. Charles knew he had strong arms; he continued to lift weights regularly. If need be, he could always propel it along with his telekinesis too.

Wolverine looked at Gambit. "Got an assignment for ya, Cajun. Need you to run some scans on the ship. FOH had their grubby hands on it for a few days and we gotta make sure there ain't any bugs or shit like that."

Gambit nodded. He didn't particularly like taking orders but what Wolverine said had some truth to it. The last thing they needed was to be followed, tracked, monitored. If FOH planted anything, surely a routine scan would not uncover it. Gambit smiled at the challenge he was given.

Neither Jeanne-Marie nor I paid much notice to whatever was happening on the bridge. I didn't feel the ship rocking so I assumed we'd managed to evade the starships following us and weren't planning on going back to earth for another chance at rescuing the mutants in the camps. Jeanne-Marie and I were in sick bay with Northstar. I had nothing but Jean-Paul on my mind.

He'd been in terrible condition when we'd found him. The soldiers had brutalized him and he was still unconscious. When we got to sick bay, my heart sank. Beast, Panda and Shaman stood over him, doing their thing. I don't know shit about medical jargon but from what Hank and the others were saying, I could tell that Jean-Paul had almost certainly been raped. Or that they'd stuck something or some things up his rectum, probably more than once. I heard such terms as "perforation" and something about holes in the lining of the colon. My stomach churned.

"Shaman, can't you do anything?" Jeanne-Marie called out.

Shaman moved away from the bed and walked over to Jeanne-Marie and I. "Jeanne-Marie, please relax," he said quietly. "I will use my powers to heal his cuts and bruises. He has a fever and I can use my powers to help bring it down. But Jean-Paul is going to need surgery. I will use my powers to help bring him to a point where the operation will be possible."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" I asked.

Shaman turned his head, looked back at Hank and Panda, and exchanged a few words with them. "They are preparing for surgery now. I think the best thing you could do to help would be to leave the room. We will need our space."

I knew he was right. But I didn't want to leave and neither did Jeanne-Marie. Shaman gently ushered us out.

Jeanne-Marie and I then stood in the hallway, dazed. She finally muttered that she was going to take a shower and off she went. I couldn't imagine that she'd want me to comfort her and I knew I wasn't up for that anyway. I just stood there in the hall. I knew that I should do something. Surely there were a million things happening right now and someone needed a hand somewhere. But I wasn't motivated at that point. Eventually I plodded back to my room, shed my clothing, took that shower and shaved my stubbly face.

Angel sat with Elena. He knew she needed some comforting from the loss of Colossus. They sat together in the rec room, Angel gripping her hand. A casual onlooker might have assumed that Warren had some designs on her. In truth, he did not. He was tired of mourning his own losses and wanted to keep an eye on Elena to help keep her from going out of her mind with grief.

Nightcrawler had been asked to both to show the X-men's new crewmates around as well as to keep an eye on the (former?) FOH soldier. Kurt introduced or reintroduced himself to the five members of the Grey family as well as to Cannonball, Wraith and Mark. Almost as soon as Freedom had reached orbit, Mark had located a supply room and donned some nondescript khaki and white clothing, bereft of the despised FOH logo. His hands still shook and he had no idea what awaited him. He continued to be amazed that seven people he had captured from the Grey household seemed to bear him no ill will. Neither did the furry blue elf-like man who stood before them.

"Of course I remember you," John Grey was saying to Kurt. "You were at Jean and Scott's wedding."

"I have a face that it is difficult to forget, yes?" Kurt smiled.

"How long until we reach Jean?" Elaine asked.

"If all goes as planned, we will be back on An'zhina in five weeks."

"I can't wait to see Jean again! I have dreamed of this for so long!"  
  
"And our new grandchildren," John added.

"Can one of you help Joey?" Sara asked, about her son. "His power seems to be that he can see through things but he can't control it at all."

All eyes turned to Joey. His eyes were open and focussed. "It's ok now," he said. "But sometimes it gets so bad and so confusing that I don't know what I'm seeing. Sometimes I just have to close my eyes." He then added, "Mom, I want to be called Joe now----not Joey. Remember?"

Nightcrawler smiled, seeing that there was indeed a pre-teenager inside him despite how difficult his life had been the last few years. "We will indeed teach you how to control your gifts, Joe," he promised.

Kurt first brought the group to sick bay, but a sign on the door indicated that surgery was taking place and asked for no interruptions. The new crewmembers had a few minor bruises and scrapes which Kurt was able to treat outside of the infirmary. He showed them all the main areas of the ship and assigned each a room.

When they reached the bridge, Nightcrawler said, "I think it might be better if we do not disturb them just yet. We will show you the bridge some other time." Part of his hesitation had to do with having Mark there. Kurt knew it would not be wise to have the former FOH soldier on the bridge.

Nightcrawler then brought them to the recreation room, where Angel was sitting with Elena. Angel rose and pulled Nightcrawler aside as the others awkwardly explored the room, no one sure what to do with Elena who sat quietly, staring off into space.

"What are we supposed to do with the soldier?" Angel asked.

"I do not know," Kurt replied.

"He must be a threat."

Nightcrawler nodded. "I know, my friend. But the Professor did not seem too worried."

"I still think we need to keep an eye on him. A very close eye."

"I have been doing so," Kurt said. He took a quick peek at Elena. "Speaking of keeping an eye on someone…."

"I know. I plan to stay with her…until someone else comes along to relieve me. I'd be worried that she might kill herself."

"Me too." Kurt sighed. Acute disappointment was sinking in for Nightcrawler. Their mission was again a failure. They had rescued Jean's parents and sister, and four other mutants. But that was it. Like spitting into the ocean. And Kurt knew that everyone was again quite traumatized from what had been done to Storm and Northstar. No one seemed to want a return engagement. He sighed. No, life was not easy for mutants.

Storm brushed away feelings of guilt. She knew there was much to be done on board the starship. She had not even exchanged a proper greeting with the Greys or introduced herself to the others. Yet part of her shell had cracked and she simply had no more desire to pretend she was invincible. She knew she needed some time to recuperate, some time to be alone --- and the Wind Rider decided to take it.

First she bathed. The warm, soapy water helped to soothe her. She lay back in the tub, resting her head and enjoying the sensations. She dipped her head back and immersed her hair in the water too. After quite some time, she rose from the tub and patted her body dry. Using a towel, she wrapped her hair into a turban-style. Reaching for a hand mirror and turning the lighting up, Storm examined herself. She had been bleeding from some abrasions but the bleeding had long since stopped. Her brief exam confirmed what she had already known---no major physical damage. It could have been worse. It had been much worse last time; when the X-men had gained control of the ship, Storm had allowed Hank to examine and tend to her.

Storm then clothed herself in a robe and left her bathroom. Entering the main part of her quarters, she reached inside one of the drawers and pulled out two candles. She placed them on the nightstand, next to a small, leafy plant that she had begun growing on An'zhina and had brought with. Storm also reached for a few other things---replicated sage, a feather that she had picked from the ground on the Paradise Planet, a dried tomato from one of Bobby's gardens, and a leaf from a bush on An'zhina. The sage was for purification. The later objects signified the divine to her---the presence of the Goddess within nature. Ideally, she would have an object from earth to use but that was not possible.

She then spent quite some time in meditation and prayer. Storm forced herself to concentrate and block out time, forget about the nagging voice reminding her that there was work to be done. When she was done, she rose from her cross-legged position on the floor and dressed herself.

Her communicator let out a blip, signifying a non-urgent message. Storm retrieved the message. Everyone on board the ship was being invited to dinner. The group would get a chance to sit down together, talk, and decide what to do next. Storm felt 100% better. She checked her timepiece and saw that it was time to go.

As Storm strode towards the mess hall, she ran into Rogue and Gambit in the hall. The newlyweds went right up to her and enfolded her in a hug. Storm stood and allowed herself to enjoy this, allowed herself to savor Rogue and Remy's caring for her. The three held the hug for many moments.

After Storm broke it off, Rogue reached for her friend's white hair and stroked it a few times. "Sugar, you wanna talk?" she asked gently.

Storm reached for Rogue's hand and held it. Rogue had long since shed her gloves as she was now able to touch whatever she wanted. "Perhaps some other time, Rogue," Storm replied.

Rogue looked disappointed but Storm then added, "No, I mean it. I think I may very well take you up on that offer. Just not now."

"I understand. Whenever you need me, girl, I'm here."

Gambit added, "You know dat you can talk to Remy too if you ever want."

"Thank you, Remy." She paused, and then asked, "Are you two coming to dinner?"

"No. We be headin' to de bridge. We got bridge duty now."

So Rogue and Gambit went off in the direction of the bridge. Storm soon entered the mess hall. About half of the rest of the ship's inhabitants were already there, milling around and talking to each other before dinner would be served.

Storm saw Wolverine. Out of habit, she went right up to him. She knew she had been failing to disguise it, but her eyes always lit up when she saw him. Wolverine embraced her, and as always, Storm was forced to admit to herself how much his gesture meant to her.

Wolverine had been talking to Hector Rendoza/Wraith. Hector had walked into the mess hall feeling a bit dazed, but Wolverine had spotted him and Hector struck up a conversation. He was already feeling much better. As soon as Storm took Wolverine's side and they had finished their embrace, Hector asked Logan, "Is this your wife?"

Storm smiled, "No; we're not married. I am called Storm. My real name is Ororo Monroe."

She shook Hector's hand. Wraith had found a hooded jacket to wear on top of the rest of his apparel so that the only exposed part of him was his ghastly face, which the hood helped to obscure. He couldn't get over how nonchalant everyone behaved. No one was freaking out over his looks. Of course, he was in a room with a blue-skinned man with huge wings, a blue-skinned elf complete with a tail, a Russian woman with pink skin and orange hair….Wraith practically fit right in!

Storm turned her head at the sound of the doors sliding aside. Panda entered the room. "Panda, is there any news on Northstar?" she asked.

The room fell silent to hear Panda's report. "The surgery is finished. Hank—we---think Northstar will pull through alright. Hank is staying in sick bay with him. Bobby and Jeanne-Marie are there too, and Shaman is using his powers to help Northstar recover from the surgery….and from everything.."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Storm asked. Many of the others were wondering why exactly Northstar would have needed surgery. However, many of them had an idea and were loathe to bring it up in public.

"I don't think so. Not at this point. Hank prefers that Northstar not have visitors ---he's unconscious anyway---so it would probably be best if everyone could just keep out of sick bay. We just couldn't get Bobby and Jeanne-Marie to stay out this time." Panda paused. "I'll be joining you for dinner. I asked the others in sick bay if they want me to bring any food back to them but none of them say they're hungry."

"Thank goodness Northstar will recover," Storm breathed. She felt ashamed that she had nearly forgotten about him and his situation. Her shame deepened when she realized that she'd been more concerned about recovering from the rape than she had been grieving over Colossus's death. 'The Goddess does not want me to be so hard on myself,' Storm told herself. I must stop berating myself. Peter's death has not yet sunk in for me, and when it does, I will grieve in due time.' She also resolved to check in with Bobby when she got a chance----the poor guy must have been going out of his mind with worry over Northstar's condition.

The group soon sat down to dinner. Storm swirled her head towards the doorway when she heard the doors again slide apart and someone new enter. "There you are, honey!" Elaine Grey exclaimed as she spotted her younger daughter entering the room late. Sara apologized for her tardiness and took an empty seat around the table. The rest of the group had just finished introducing themselves and asked Sara to follow suit.

"My name's Sara Grey," she said. "Jean's sister," she added with a smile. She had met the Professor, Storm and a few of the others at Jean's wedding and remembered them well. "My married name was Szyrdelski," she continued, "but after the divorce, I went back to using Grey. The kids still have their father's last name though," she said, nodding in the direction of Joe and Gail.

Storm smiled. "You will find that last names on An'zhina don't matter so much. Jean once told me she can't remember if her last name is Grey or Summers or Summers-Grey or Grey-Summers, but last she recalled, she and Scott had both decided to hyphenate."

The newcomers to Freedom then asked the X-men dozens of questions about An'zhina and the Endarians. The Greys, of course, asked about Jean and Scott and their children. The group chatted amicably about these topics. The Professor took a quick mental read of the group. He sensed that no one yet wanted to discuss the weightier matters such as Colossus's death or where to go next. He was content to allow the group to talk about what it wanted to. Hector Rendoza was asking dozens of questions about the X-men and the missions and accomplishments of the team over the years. Angel and Nightcrawler were both more than happy to indulge him with tales from the group's history.

Shaman told Gail that he had a daughter living on An'zhina who was a bit younger than Gail. Gail thanked him for that news and looked forward to possibly making a friend. Having no one near her age other than her brother was wearing on her.

As the conversation continued on, Storm suddenly felt a sensation welling up in the pit of her stomach. Her gaze continually to shifted between Logan and Sara. She watched her lover watch Sara. Logan was looking at Sara as a hungry dog eyes a dripping bone. Sara had beauty----she was not quite as resplendent as her elder sister but beautiful still. The unease continued to swell inside Storm's gut. She slowly lowered her fork to the plate, finding that her appetite had vanished.

Eventually Storm looked again at Sara, unable to read her expression and wishing she could read the other woman's thoughts. But Wolverine's look she knew all too well. It was the look that Wolverine used to give Jean….and the look that he had never given Storm. Storm tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

After dinner, Mark was approached by Professor Xavier. "Do you have some time right now?" he asked softly. "I would like for us to sit down and talk."

"Of course," Mark stammered. The two men then went off towards a conference room. Mark's heart pounded as he walked down the hall. He'd been almost silent during the meal, listening in awe and shock to the stories about the X-men's past and about this amazing place called An'zhina. Several times he had gotten the feeling of not knowing quite where he was or disbelieving what his eyes and ears were transmitting to the brain.

Mark and the Professor reached the small conference room and Mark found himself sitting across from the man who FOH had vilified and made into a virtual demon. Mark was old enough to remember the days before the rise of FOH, when Xavier had been a respected leader and spokesman for peace and cooperation. And he is going to hate my guts when he realizes what I've done to mutants,' Mark thought. He then stopped himself. Xavier is a telepath. He must already know----'

"How are you today?" Charles asked.

Mark managed a smile. "You're a telepath, right? So you must know already," he said, attempting a flippant tone of voice.

"I do not make it a practice to enter other people's minds unless I have a reason," the Professor said. "I have always taught my students that we mutants must be careful to not abuse our gifts." He paused. "I did enter your mind once before, when you were helping us escape. I needed to make sure that you were not some sort of plant."

Mark nodded. He also had no idea how to respond. Finally, he managed, "So I assume I checked out okay?" he asked. He winced when he heard how trite his words sounded.

"Yes. I can tell that you harbor no ill-will towards us and are not some sort of spy. But enough of what I sense, Mark. Why don't you tell me a bit about your background. Where you grew up, how you came to Friends of Humanity."

So Mark told the Professor the entire story----about growing up in a working class family, the recession hitting them hard when Mark was in his early teens. He mentioned that his older brother Mike joined FOH, though he left out the fact that Mike had been assigned to this very vessel back when it was under the control of FOH. "I—I didn't really want to join the FOH," Mark was saying. "I know it's no excuse. But it was the only job I could find that paid a decent wage and would cover our parents under the insurance plan. My Dad was so sick for a while. He's better now though." The Professor seemed to be encouraging him to go on, so Mark continued. "I never agreed with what FOH said about mutants being evil and about destroying them. I mean, I hated all the propaganda and stuff. I hated rounding up mutants into camps and the way we treated them there."

The Professor remained silent but Mark stopped in his tracks. A strange analogy popped into his head. His ex-girlfriend was Catholic, and she'd told him about going to Confession. Mark felt like he was doing that now---sitting in front of this dignified, gentle man and pouring out his soul, revealing his sins. Mark expected no absolution from the Professor. But he had to tell him. "I did some horrible things while I worked in the camps. We---I suppose you know how badly mutants are treated at those camps. I'm as guilty as everyone else. I never did anything to try to stop it either."

"You helped us escape," the Professor said.

"Yes. But it's not enough. And there aren't any excuses for what I did." He paused. "Professor, what's going to happen to me here? I mean, I've done terrible things to mutants. Your people---you X-men---have every reason to hate me. But I can't return to earth. Too many people saw me help you escape."

"If you decide to stay here with us, I assure you that no one here will harm you. I will talk with everyone about this and make sure they understand your situation. You have done harmful things to mutants but that does not make you a bad person." Charles reminded himself to be forgiving with Mark for his failures. Atrocities happen when good men like Mark simply go along with what they know is wrong. Still, I cannot condemn him for being human and making mistakes.' "Of course," the Professor said, "if you want to return to earth, we can arrange it. As you said, it might be a problem now, given that the Friends of Humanity know you helped us."

Mark nodded. "I don't see any way to go back. They'll either throw me in a jail cell forever or….or worse. And I don't want to go back. I don't want to go back to the camps, to hurting mutants. What I was doing was so wrong."

"Then, as I said, you are welcome to stay with us."

"Thank you, Professor."

Mark then looked down at his hands. There was one more thing, one more question that he had to have an answer to. "Professor," he began, "the members of Friends of Humanity who were the

crew of this ship. Before you took it over." A pause. "What ever happened to them?"

Charles took a breath. "They were executed. We X-men discussed at length what to do with them. We felt they did need to be punished for what they did----raping and torturing some of us, killing many of our friends, abducting us, destroying the mansion. I personally disagreed with the decision to end their lives but I was overruled." Charles paused and took a look at Mark's expression. He was not reading the man's mind, but he asked him, "Did you have friends aboard this ship?"

"No," Mark answered, reflexively. "I was just wondering." Later on, Mark would wonder about that, knowing what he did of the mutant's powers and ability to enter other's minds. But at the time, he didn't worry about the answer. He already knew his brother had to be dead. This simply confirmed it.

The two men continued talking for a little while longer. Afterwards, the Professor had much to do. He was exhausted and settled down in his bed, but sleep did not come. So much to do the next day. He wanted to hold a meeting soon for all the X-men to plan for a fast return to earth for another rescue attempt. He would have to take an audible and see who needed help to recover from the loss of Colossus. Charles resolved to see Elena tomorrow. He would also have to check in with Northstar, learn how his recovery was progressing and see if Bobby needed any help. And Storm, of course. He had known her for many years and doubted she would want to confide in him about her rape but he had to at least express his caring. Jeanne-Marie might also want his help, given that she was grieving for her son and now her brothers too. And he would have to talk more with the Greys, Cannonball, and Wraith, helping them get accustomed.

Storm had been the first to leave the dinner. She excused herself as the others were getting up to replicate dessert.

Shortly after Storm reached her room, her communicator let out another blip, indicating a non-urgent message. It was Beast. He wanted to know if she would like to have a medical examination. Although his voice on the recording was professional as always, she heard his concern in it too and was sincerely touched. She also heard exhaustion, and it was no wonder as he had just finished performing surgery. Storm decided that she would take him up on his offer, but later. Give Beast some time to rest. Besides, she knew with her pregnancy was not a concern; she had never been able to conceive in her life. But it was possible she picked up some sort of disease; none of the men had worn condoms. Storm rarely—if ever—experienced physical sickness. But still.

I should talk to Elena and be there for her,' Storm thought guiltily. But she had spotted several others trying to engage the Russian in conversation during dinner. Nightcrawler is exceptionally compassionate. Maybe he will make himself available should she need someone.'

Storm then removed her clothing, changing into her soft robe. The silk-like material felt soothing against her skin. She reached for a book and settled down in bed with it. She tried to lose herself in the pages, get her mind off of things and deflect attention from what was truly bothering her. Away from Logan and the beautiful redhead. Self-pity will get me nowhere,' she reminded herself. And jealousy will not do my any good either.'

She then silently cursed, realizing she hadn't paid attention to the last few paragraphs she'd just finished reading. All she thought of was the honorable, strong man she loved and who did not return her love. Storm clutched her chest, feeling some physical pain. She then startled when she heard a knock at her door.

Storm rapidly rose to her feet and walked towards the door. "Who is it?"

"It's me." Wolverine.

Storm pressed the button to slide the door aside. "Logan," she breathed his name.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course." She stepped back to allow him into her room. "Y-you're always welcome here." Storm didn't know if she was too tired, too sad or what but her usually cool and steady demeanor was gone---and she had no desire to fake it. Her defenses were down and they weren't going back up any time soon. She also found that she could not meet Wolverine's eyes. If she did, her feelings would be too obvious----not that he probably didn't already know.

"Darlin', I….I jus' wanted to see if you're alright."

As a reflex, Storm replied, "I'm fine."

Wolverine looked at her. "I know you too well, darlin'. An' I know you're gonna try to pretend everything's ok. And if that's what works for you, I'm not gonna try an' stop you…..I jus' wanted to let you know that I'm here for you if you want someone."

Wolverine was surprised when Storm wordlessly put her arms around him and stooped down so her head could rest on his shoulder. He pulled her into an embrace and held onto her warmth.

Deep in the recesses of his mind, Logan would have to admit that he was self-conscious about his height. As strong and powerful as he was and as little as his height had been a disadvantage in battle all these years, he really would have preferred to stand another foot taller than he did. Like just now, Storm was awkwardly bent over so her head could rest on his shoulder. He felt her body shaking and thought perhaps she was crying.

After a while, he whispered, "C'mon," and brought her over towards the bed. It was easier that way; they sat together, Storm still burying her face in his shoulder. He was certain now she was crying. "That's good," he murmured. "Let it all out." Wolverine searched his memory, trying to remember if he'd ever before observed Storm crying. He only wished he could've made good on his promise and made those soldiers pay. From what he recalled of the battle, they hadn't encountered during the battle that FOH leader, the one who had first assaulted Storm. If they had, Wolverine would've put his claws to good use.

But it was actually heartening that Ororo wept. She held too much in, always had to maintain her control lest her powers become chaos. Wolverine could never fully understand that. She was crying a bit harder now, a bit louder too.

Many minutes passed. At last, Storm brought her head up and wiped her tears with one hand. "Here," Logan said, offering her his sleeve.

"Thanks," Storm said, bedewing his sleeve with her tears. She didn't have the energy to be embarrassed. So he saw her cry. That's alright, she told herself. I'm tired of being the strong one.' Besides, he would just think she'd been weeping over the rapes. When she'd finished wiping her tears, she rested her head against him once more. "So good that you're here with me," she murmured. "This makes it so much easier."

"Glad you're lettin' it out for once," he said, caressing her hair as he held her.

Gradually, Storm's touches took on a new nuance. Her warm hands had made their way underneath his shirt and were touching the taut skin, playing with the curly hair. Her hands then slowly moved down towards his thighs, and then, gradually, towards his groin. She'd raised her head and was exploring one of his ears with her lips and tongue.

Wolverine was surprised. "Darlin'….you really want this now?"

"Yes, Logan," she whispered. "Make love to me now. That will make it all better."

Surprised as he was, he returned her kisses and touches, although having her keep the lead. Logan rationalized that he truly could not have been certain how she would react. Last time she had been desecrated, they had not been lovers beforehand and when she had asked him to her bed, it had been over a year since the assaults. So he had no idea how long it would take her to recover from this but had been gearing up to expect to wait perhaps weeks or months.

Wolverine remembered back to what it had been like on the Paradise Planet, before Storm had asked him to become her lover. She—and most mutant women---were aroused more often than non-mutant women; he could easily smell it. Those months on the planet had been agonizing. A stallion around a mare in heat would not hold back and it had taken every ounce of willpower for Wolverine to do the same. Finally, thankfully, Storm had initiated things.

Soon those thoughts were far from Logan's mind though. Storm had unzipped his pants and was stroking his rapidly hardening member. She was soon tugging his pants down and helping him to be rid of his shirt. Her robe was flung across the room. No need to hold back any longer, Wolverine knew, just let her set the pace and be as delicate as possible. Delicate' wasn't a word in his vocabulary, but he would do this best.

After not long, Storm was straddling Logan, looking down at the rugged man who she loved so much. She liked playing with his hair; there was so much of it all over his body. She had taken to twisting patches of it between her fingers after their lovemaking. But that would wait for later----for now she stroked the muscles that bulged from his chest, shoulders, and arms.

Storm's glorious white hair formed a cloak that surrounded them. She saw the look on his face and knew that he loved this sight of her, being enveloped by her hair, loving the sight of her breasts and feeling the heat from her center as her legs straddled him. They had been lovers for so long that she knew his likes and knew he adored this view. Storm let him savor it for a while, languorously playing with her bountiful breasts, fondling them. She then bent downwards to kiss his lips and he returned the kiss, though more gently than usual. His hands were all over her too, but slower and lighter than usual. After the kiss, Storm sat back on her heels again, looking down at the sight of him.

"Scoot forward, darlin'," he asked, his hands now stroking lightly against her core. "You wanna let me eat you?"

Storm did indeed want it. She straddled his head as his lips and tongue did their heavenly work. She braced herself against the bedboards. After just a bit, they changed their position since both knew that Storm didn't enjoy receiving in that position as much as some others. So they rearranged themselves, Storm sitting on the edge of the bed and Wolverine kneeling before it, her elegantly long legs draped around him. Still his strokes and nibbles were more tame than usual but Storm found herself enjoying it no less.

And later, when Storm had resumed her position on top of him, grinding herself up and down on his rod, she chased rational thoughts away from her mind, trying to concentrate on their pleasure. The deplorable FOH soldiers couldn't take this away from her, she thought triumphantly, as her muscles spasmed and she cried out with the force of her climax. Wolverine followed just a moment later.

After not long, the lovers lay together on the bed. "Don't go," she had implored him. And so he stayed with her, an arm flung over her midsection. As Storm played with some of the hair that covered his body, her thoughts continued to run. He's only here because I asked him, because he thinks I'm upset about the rapes and he's doing his duty to comfort me. A man of honor, of duty. He doesn't know that I cried because I can tell how he feels about Sara. Shame on me for manipulating him so. If I had any gumption, I would just tell him how I feel about him and be able to withstand it when he tells me he does not share those feelings.'

Storm then started to wonder. Had Wolverine pretended that she was Sara the entire time?

Goddess, give me strength. Give me strength to either tell him how I feel about him or to truly accept that he's not mine and end this!'

Storm's thoughts continued, I am not fooling myself one bit. I love Logan too much and I love our coupling together. I wouldn't give that up for the galaxy, even if it's the only piece of him that I possess. Besides….I might not have him for too much longer, should Sara return his feelings. For all I know, this might have been the last time….'

Storm looked at Wolverine and saw that he had fallen asleep. She remained by his side, though sleep did not come to her for a very long time.

Hours ago, we had practically pushed Hank out of sick bay. We assured him that we were content to watch over Jean-Paul and should any change in his condition occur, we would notify him at once. Jeanne-Marie and I had been in combat and hospital situations enough to have a sense of what the blips on the monitors meant. Hank kept insisting that he should stay, but he was exhausted and we were relieved when he agreed to go to bed.

Jeanne-Marie and I drank cup after cup of coffee. I usually didn't do this; usually had one small cup in the morning and that's it. So I was wide-awake and alert but somehow bone-tired too. Jeanne-Marie and I talked in between trips to the bathroom.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," I said. "For everything you've been through. I know you've lost so much, and now this."

"I thank you for your sympathy," she said, wearily. "I know I need to think of a way to go on without Stephan but I feel as though a part of my body was chopped off. I don't know how much more I can withstand."

"I can only imagine how you feel. I wish I could do something to make it better."

Jeanne-Marie looked at her brother who remained on the bed, unconscious. "Well, at least I have him. Hank did say he will pull through." Both she and I had repeated those words of Hank's numerous times to ourselves and to each other.

"He wouldn't have left this room if he wasn't certain Jean-Paul will be ok. And whatever Shaman did really seemed to make him better. His fever is way down. Even now he looks like he's sleeping peacefully."

"I worry about him mentally though."

"Me too," I said.

"Well, he survived being tortured before. And that was for months on end. He'll have to make it this time as well."

There was more I wanted to say to Jeanne-Marie, but I couldn't quite find the words or think of a way to make it not sound corny. I wanted to tell her that I loved her brother and hoped she might regard me as a brother as well, and I'd like to see her as a sister. But maybe the time wasn't quite right. Those things can't be forced or willed into existence either. And I kept thinking that she had indeed lost so much, she wasn't about to let anyone new into her heart. I was warned that she had many sides to her personality and somehow she'd always been standoffish with me though distantly pleasant too----but I suspected the pleasantness had more to do with the fact that I was Jean-Paul's lover. I also saw so much of myself in her….I could see some resentment of the time Jean-Paul and I spent together just as I had resented Panda for taking Hank away from me.

Well, maybe I'm exaggerating things. Panda and I now basically get along just fine. I like her. And maybe Jeanne-Marie doesn't resent me so much, though I know I see a little of it from her. But that night, she just looked tired.

Chapter 13

Chapter 15 


	15. Chapter 15

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 15

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 15

"All of us X-men will be having a meeting later on today," Charles Xavier said to Sam and Hector as he sat facing them in a conference room, late the following morning. "We are going to decide where to go from here, our next move. You're both welcome to join us as well."

"I'd love to," Hector said, sitting forward in his seat. His eyes tended to dart around, mouth open with awe. He still could barely believe his luck in getting rescued by the X-men. "What an honor," he added.

"I'd like to as well," Sam said. "Professor….will we be allowed to voice our opinions?"  
  
"Of course, Sam."

"You see," Sam continued. He then paused. "I—I really am gonna miss my parents and my sister. I don't know if I can be away from them. You know, the main reason I declined your offer to join the X-men years ago was cause I didn't wanna be away from my family. I just can't bear to think that I'll never see em again and that they don't even know where I am."

"I would not say that you will never' see them again, if you decide to come with us to An'zhina."

"Do I have a choice? I mean, could I be returned to earth?"

"If you would prefer it, we will beam you back down."

Hector turned to Sam and spoke, "But how, Sam? We just spent six months living in the Greys' attic because you had nowhere else to go. You know your parents' house is being watched. You're a registered mutant. You go back to earth and they're gonna get you. You can't go back there."

"I know," Sam said. He shook his head. No matter what happened, it was going to be hard. There was no way to return permanently to his family. Why the hell did it have to be this way?? He looked at Xavier. "Professor….can I maybe get a note to my family?"

"Of course, Sam," the Professor answered. "I know how hard it is to be separated from your family like this. There is no easy way to deal with it until the situation on earth improves. Should someday the situation improve, you could be reunited with them. In the meantime, you might find some comfort in talking to the others here. Panda, for instance, has not been with us as long as many of the others. She sent a letter to her family, letting them know that she is safe. I know that she misses them, but I also know she has come to regard us as her family."

Sam nodded. "I'll talk to her." He then brightened at a thought. "Can we start training as X-men?"

"By all means. I think the others will be glad to begin working with you."

"I want the codename Cannonball. And Hector said he wants to be known as Wraith, right Hector?"

Hector looked down at his hands. He then softly asked, "What about me, Professor? Can I really train with your team? I—I don't think I have any powers. And I know it's painful to look at me. I always turn away when I pass a mirror. Is there….do you have any way to cure me? I mean, not that I think being a mutant is a disease or anything like that, but is there a way to get me to look less….scary? More human?"  
  
Charles took a deep breath and looked at Hector. It was akin to looking at a college textbook anatomy model. The translucent skin allowed one to view bone and muscle, see them working together whenever Hector spoke. Charles knew that once Hank had a moment to sit down with Hector, he would share being intrigued with this. "I do not think there is any way to alter your appearance, Hector. We X-men have not devoted any time to changing our appearances."

"I thought you would say that," he said quietly.

"If it is any consolation, you will be accepted here with us. You can already see that many of us on board have….unusual appearances. You will see more when we get to An'zhina."

"Do any look as grotesque as me?"

For a moment or two, the Professor did not know what to say. The direct answer to Hector's question---the answer that many X-men would have given---was 'no.' Instead, he answered, "There are none who have your particular mutation. That is partly what makes working with mutants so fascinating---we're all different and all so special. I look forward to seeing you progress, Hector and we can discover what your hidden abilities and gifts are."

So they left it at that. Both of the newest X-men looked forward to working with the team.

Believe it or not, I was awake enough the next day to go to the X-men meeting. Jeanne-Marie wanted to go as well. Panda agreed to stay in sick bay with Jean-Paul and keep an eye on him. He was still unconscious, though after Shaman gave him another "dose" earlier in the morning, it was thought that he could wake any minute now.

Aside from Panda, everyone else was seated around the table of the largest conference room, except for the Professor and Angel----they were on bridge duty but listening in via communicators. All of our new crewmembers were there too. I did want to get to know them and all, but those such things would have to wait until Jean-Paul was better and I could think of anything besides his recovery.

I didn't know what to make of the former FOH soldier, Mark. The Professor had spoken to Jeanne-Marie and I earlier that morning and said he was convinced Mark posed no threat to us. I wouldn't ever doubt the Professor, but still it was odd to have him there. He sat quietly throughout the meeting. He looked nervous and I couldn't blame him.

Because I was so preoccupied with thoughts of Jean-Paul, I didn't participate in the meeting much. But the main topic to be discussed was whether to return towards earth and make another attempt at a rescue.

There was a lot of push-back at this idea. Jeanne-Marie was surprisingly vocal in her opposition to it. (I guess I shouldn't say surprising.' I never really knew for sure how she would react to any given situation.) She stood up out of her seat and said, "We already have one X-man dead, another raped, and my brother was nearly beaten to death! We're not going back!"

Across the room, I saw Elena drop her head onto Rogue's shoulder at the mention of Colossus. Rogue put her arm around Elena. Elena's body shook a little but I think she was out of tears to cry.

"What if we were to take a less risky approach?" Storm asked. "As far as we know, FOH still cannot detect our reinforced cloak. What if we were to return to earth over a camp, drop our shields, beam up all the mutants we can detect and then move on? We would have the element of surprise as they should not know we are there. It would not be as thorough as we prefer to be if none of us beam down to the surface, but it is much safer that way. I think the chances of any of us getting captured are quite slim if our shields are down for less than 10 seconds and we all remain on board the ship. The drawback is that we would probably not rescue all the mutants in a given camp. But it is better than returning with nothing."

The idea was discussed around a lot, and I was surprised when the group seemed to be going with her plan. They all agreed that the risks were minimal and we had such a great chance to free more mutants, we couldn't lose it. Everyone was asked to offer their opinion because, as Storm reminded us, the decision would impact us all if we were somehow captured again. Eventually, the only one dissenting was Jeanne-Marie and she then literally threw a fit when she realized we were heading back to earth. With tears streaming down her face, she stomped out of the room. I was afraid of her rage and loathe to follow her, so I did not. I sat there, musing about what a hypocrite I was. If I truly wanted Jeanne-Marie to regard me as a brother, I should have gone after her and tried to console her. Yet I sensed she really wanted to be alone after that.

A few other things were decided upon too. We agreed to have a funeral/memorial for Colossus when we returned to An'zhina, as we knew Jean, Scott and Jubilee would want to be there as well. That was fine by most of us; we needed time to collect our feelings and let the pain sink in.

Also, it was agreed that we would begin training Cannonball and Wraith. Both wanted to join the X-men. Cannonball had the ability to fly, though his flying style was a bit different than the fliers I know. He kinda leaves exhaust like a rocket. It looks like it requires more effort than Storm, Rogue or Jean-Paul who all fly gracefully and easily. As for Wraith, we weren't sure if he had any special powers. But he could still be trained in fighting, serving on bridge duty, basic ship functions, etc. He looked very eager.

We also agreed to being working with Jean's niece and nephew, Gail and Joe, as soon as we had a chance. Obviously they were too young for anything like fighting. But Joe needed to learn how to control his ability to see through substances. And it would also be cool to see if Gail had any powers and learn more about the ridges that were poking through her skin. From a distance she eerily resembled Marrow but after giving her ridges a cursory look, Hank said that he did not think they were comprised of bone.

Towards the end of the meeting, Storm tossed out an interesting thought. She speculated as to whether or not the link the Professor made with a few FOH official's minds might have made a difference. "Perhaps we will see when we are closer to earth," she said.

I was surprised again during the course of the meeting. The former FOH soldier, Mark, asked if he could speak. When Storm gave him permission, he addressed us all. "I---I'm not the most experienced public speaker. But I have something I want to say to everyone." The room was so quiet, you could've heard a pin drop. Mark stood with his hands clasped in front of him, and I noticed they seemed to shake. "I used to be a Friends of Humanity soldier. I--i just wanted to say I'm sorry. I know probably you all----well, probably a lot of you hate me and I think you have every right to. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I wish I'd never joined that group. And I know telling you that I'm sorry won't make it right for the mutants that I've-----mistreated. But I wanted to apologize anyway."

The room was quiet for a bit. Mark's eyes darted around and he then sat back into his seat. I gotta say one thing. The guy's got guts.

Finally, Hank spoke. "The Professor said that you are sincere in your remorse and your desire to help us. We all know that the Professor does not make mistakes in his analyses such as these." I think those first two sentences might've been for the benefit of the other X-men; not Mark. I'd been wrapped up in Jean-Paul, of course, and not really talking to anyone else, but I guessed that there were plenty of those who didn't want a former FOH soldier on board. "None of us is able to speak on behalf of those mutants whom you have mistreated, but I firmly believe that a person can turn over a new leaf, so to speak. I am willing to forgive you for what you have done and work with you."

Rogue was sitting with her arms crossed in front of her. "I'd be interested in hearin' why you joined em in the first place and what changed your mind bout us." I gotta give Rogue credit. I think part of her wanted to rip the guy's throat out, but she was being quite civil. Then I remembered. She used to be a "bad guy" too. Oh, never anywhere near as bad as an FOH member, but she did used to fight on Mystique's team when she was younger. So surely she must've understood that a person truly can change. Yet she was looking at Mark with something other than acceptance on her face.

Mark then talked a bit about his history. I'm not going to record it all. He spoke with lots of "um"'s and awkward pauses. The more he spoke, the more obvious it became that he was terrified. He said he joined FOH for purely economic reasons and mentioned that he had a brother who was a member. He said that he questioned FOH's beliefs and tactics almost from the start. He admitted that he was a coward for not doing more to speak out.

As he talked, I looked at my teammates. I can't read minds but I am decent at reading expressions. Hank, Panda, Kurt and Shaman looked like they were willing to give the guy a chance and, as Hank had said, accept his apology. Wolverine, Rogue and Gambit looked none too pleased with the guy but were holding back from attacking him. Storm's expression was unreadable.

And as for me, I can't really say how I felt. A stronger person would not join FOH no matter what, just as they wouldn't have joined Hitler's Nazi party in the 1930's. But the guy's only human. I had to imagine it would be hard to resist such pressure. And then a chilling thought came over me. If I wasn't a mutant---and wasn't gay---, would I have joined FOH? Would I have just gone along with the crowd, did what I needed to do to ensure my family had food, medicine, shelter? Or would I truly have been strong enough to withstand the crowd? I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I never was a brave man. Only being with the X-men made me the person I am today. Mark could have been me. I forced myself to chase those ideas away; I just didn't want to go down that line of thought anymore.

So that was it. We adjourned the meeting and turned Freedom around to head back for earth. We were due back on that troubled planet in roughly 26 hours. As soon as the meeting was over, I went back to my vigil at Jean-Paul's side. I was lucky, I mused, as I walked down the hall to the infirmary. No one had asked me to serve bridge duty. They all accepted my need to be with my beloved.

Not long after the meeting, Storm found herself sitting with Elaine, John and Sara Grey in the rec room. She had given the three a more detailed tour of the ship, including the bridge and engine room. Sara's children were with a handful of the other X-men, observing them train in the Danger Room.

"It's good to be here with you, Storm," Sara was saying. "I feel like I know you the best. Remember when we were bridesmaids for Jean?"

"Of course I remember," Storm said, returning Sara's warm smile. Storm fought back the building resentment towards Sara and tried to view Sara as a sister. It is not her fault that Wolverine does not love me,' she told herself. She then spoke, "Rogue was the other bridesmaid. She and Gambit were recently married in a beautiful ceremony on An'zhina, by the way."

"I still can't remember all these names," John admitted, shaking his head. "Gambit was the one with the black-red eyes, right?"

"Honey, how could you have missed him?" Elaine asked. "He and Rogue were practically in each other's laps during the meeting! It's good to see young people in love."

"Oh, yes, I remember. Rogue is the one with the missing teeth and the skunk-stripe in her hair, right?"

"John!"

"I didn't mean it as an insult, honey," he said to his wife. "I think she's a lovely young woman. But she is missing at least one tooth and what else do you call that in her hair besides a skunk-stripe?"

Storm smiled at the elderly couple's interplay. They had been together for decades and obviously still loved each other. Storm forced herself to feel happy for them rather than jealous. Her smile evaporated, however, when Sara asked, "What happened to knock out Rogue's teeth? I noticed it too. Last time I saw her, she wasn't missing any teeth."

The light-hearted mood was now gone. Sara noticed the solemn look which came over Storm's face, but she pressed on anyway. "And there are so many other questions I have as well. How did you acquire this ship in the first place? How did you get here? All we heard back on earth was that the X-men attacked the Friends of Humanity and stole one of their ships. I knew that couldn't be true, especially since all the battle footage they showed on TV took place outside the mansion. As if you launched an attack from the mansion and FOH just happened to be there! And at dinner yesterday." Sara continued, barely pausing for breath, "I enjoyed hearing about Jean and the kids, An'zhina and the Queen, and your adventures on the Paradise Planet. But I feel like I'm missing a big chunk of the picture and I would really love to hear the whole story." Sara hated to ask this, but she had to. During the meeting earlier that day, that French-Canadian woman who had stormed out of the meeting had made some very disturbing references to things FOH had done.

John and Elaine voiced their assent with Sara in wanting more information.

"I will be happy to share it with you," Storm began, somberly. "But it is not at all pleasant. The Friends of Humanity did some terrible things to all of us. Including Jean."

"If you do not mind telling us about it," John began, his serious tone now matching Storm's, "I would like to hear about it. I want to be able to understand what my daughter has gone through."

"Jean is okay, right?" Elaine asked, suddenly very afraid of what Storm was about to say. For the past two and a half years, she had spent many waking hours wondering what exactly had befallen Jean. She had known in her gut that parts of it were not going to be pleasant. But now she felt fear, as she knew she was finally about to hear it and from a person who would tell them the truth. Elaine felt her heart rate suddenly pounding.

"Yes, she and Scott are doing very well," Storm said. "So are their children. Don't worry---- everything we told you yesterday at dinner is true and she and Scott couldn't be happier, especially now that they are parents." Storm paused. "And I should say that as a team, we X-men have recovered from the ordeal we went through. What I am going to describe is truly awful, and many of us are still affected by it….but we X-men dealt with it together, as a family does and surviving it together made each and every one of us stronger."

All three Greys had their eyes glued to Storm. John leaned forward in his seat. The Wind Rider took a deep breath and began to recount the events. "We had known for months that the Friends of Humanity were getting stronger and stronger, and that mutants were losing the public relations battle. We knew that we had been so wrapped up in crisis after crisis for the past seven or eight years that FOH had managed to rally most of the world's public against all mutants right under our noses. So we X-men continued to train as best we could, trying to prepare ourselves for the inevitable battle against these mutant-haters. But one night, FOH managed to slip through our defenses and surprise us. To this day, I am not certain exactly how they did it. But they used some sort of stun gas which disabled most of us. Several X-men were killed in battle. I don't know if you remember Morph or Shadowcat or Thunderbird. They all perished."

Sara nodded. "I remember Shadowcat. The younger woman with brown hair? Her name was Kitty, right?" Sara remembered speaking with her at the wedding reception. She also recalled visiting the mansion once and being let in by Kitty. Jean had not yet returned that day, and Sara and Kitty had spoken for a short while then too as Sara had waited for her sister.

"Yes, that was her. She died in the attack. We had also taken in a whole group of mutants called the Morlocks. Many of them had no special powers and no ability to fight, but FOH slaughtered them all. It was such senseless killing. We were merely trying to defend ourselves from an unprovoked attack."

The Greys all expressed condolences to Storm over the losses. Storm then continued speaking.

"A core group of us----including Jean and Scott and many of those who are on board the ship today----were taken prisoner. We were brought on board this very ship and kept in a cell." Storm paused again. "The FOH planned on transporting us all to a planet which is referred to as the Acid Planet. It is a place….that is hard to describe. A large pit of acid is on the planet's surface. FOH had taken many other mutants there for execution, and…from what we know, it is an agonizing way to go." Storm looked at the faces which watched her intently, hanging on her every word. She took another breath. "The journey to this planet would take several days. So we were in the custody of FOH during those days. During the time we were prisoners….FOH did some horrible things. They pulled Jean, Rogue, Jubilee and myself out of the cell and they gang raped us."

John and Elaine both gasped. Sara was not surprised, given what Jeanne-Marie had said during the meeting. "Storm, I am so sorry to hear of this," Elaine said, her eyes wide. She held one hand against her chest, trying to fathom what the woman sitting in front of her must have gone through. Her blood chilled as thoughts turned from offering condolences to Storm to the sinking in of the fact that her own daughter—her own flesh and blood---had been treated in this manner. "Jean!" she murmured. John reached for one of her hands and held it.

"It was a horrible ordeal," Storm said, her voice sounding distant. "There were more than 200 FOH soldiers on board the ship. They kept the four of us with them for days and assaulted us over and over again for days without end. Rogue resisted more violently than the rest of us." She stopped to look at Sara. "They forced her to cooperate. That is why she is missing a few teeth. Jubilee became pregnant as a result of this ordeal and she now has a daughter." Storm then changed her tone and sounded more like herself. "But as I said, please do not despair. Jean and the rest of us are basically alright. We survived it. I know that Scott was wonderful in helping Jean to recover. And as a team, we all helped each other."

The Greys continued to look at Storm, wanting to hear her every word. She also sensed they were shocked into silence, no one knowing quite what to say. So Storm continued, "I know this is a subject that sometimes causes people to feel uncomfortable. But we X-men decided to talk about this openly and take the shame out of it. None of us did anything wrong, and this is not something that can be ignored either. So we talk freely about it, if we need to. None of us are to blame."

The Greys then asked Storm to tell them more. So, they continued on for a long time. Storm told them of being rescued when soldiers took Bobby's collar off. She did not gloss over the discussions that surrounded the execution of the soldiers. She told them of all the major events that had occurred in the last two and a half years----the time spent on the Paradise Planet, the births of Aurora and Charlotte, the near-capture by FOH and being saved by the Endarians, the relocation to An'zhina, the liberation of two Mutant Containment Centers, the rescuing of three of the X-men from the Cetians, the birth of Christopher. She didn't spend much time talking about life on An'zhina as that had been covered extensively at dinner the previous evening.

"So you understand our determination to liberate more camps," Storm was saying. "The accounts we've heard from those we've already rescued are harrowing. FOH is killing and raping mutants at will and with impunity. It must cease."

Sara sat, shaking her head ."So if Gail and Joey and all of us had been brought to the camp….the same thing would've happened. My own daughter…..being treated like that! Oh Storm! Thank God for Marrow and Psylocke coming to us. Thank God for you and the other X-men."

"We truly are blessed," Elaine said, shaking her head. "Someone above must have been looking out for us to deliver us here like this."

John clenched his fists. He was fighting to get a handle on his anger at FOH as his thoughts turned to a practical question. "Then is it really safe for us to be returning to earth now? How can we risk that??"

Storm reassured John. "Our plan should involve our shields being down for less than 15 seconds. I cannot imagine FOH discovering us and disabling us in that short of a time frame. Once we have the mutants, we'll simply re-cloak and leave." She sighed. "The thing that makes me hesitate about this plan is that we will not be able to rescue all of the camp inhabitants. I know we will be leaving people behind. But it is better than not attempting any more rescues on this journey."

John gently argued with Storm for a while more, disagreeing and fearing that this placed them at undue risk. Storm and the others were eventually able to convince him that their plan was the right thing to do, though many still felt unease.

Around mid-day that day, Shaman paid another visit to Jean-Paul. As Jeanne-Marie and I watched, he touched the unconscious Jean-Paul and held his hands there for several minutes. Already all of Jean-Paul's external wounds---the bruises, tears and scrapes had vanished because of Shaman's powers. He still had a fever but it was down. It was his internal wounds I was worried about, though Hank said that the surgery was a success.

And at last, Jean-Paul opened his eyes. "Jeanne," he whispered. "Ma soeur."

Jeanne-Marie perched on one side of the bed, holding one of Jean-Paul's hands and stroking his face. She murmured a few words in French to him. He looked like he wanted to reply but couldn't muster the energy.

I was on Jean-Paul's other side. I reached down and, gently as a feather, kissed the side of his face. "Robere," he said, using the French form of my name. He had used it once or twice before. "Mon amour." I rejoiced, seeing him like this and apparently back to normal.

The three of us stayed like that for quite some time, Jeanne-Marie and I whispering comforting words to him. Jean-Paul was weak but getting stronger rapidly. He soon closed his eyes again but held Jeanne-Marie's hand in one of his, and mind in the other. Hank popped in periodically, keeping an eye on him.

"I would like for you to remain here for at least 48 hours," Hank said. "Your condition must be monitored. You are healing from surgery and you still have a fever."

Jean-Paul's eyes were still closed. He managed to say to Hank, "I'm not in any position to argue with you, mon ami."

I was so overjoyed that he was going to pull through and he seemed much like his old self. I just hoped that the extent of his internal injuries wouldn't be as severe as I feared.

Before I knew it, we were back near earth. I had to tear myself away from Jean-Paul's side --- which was actually okay as Hank said he needed periods of rest and sleep without visitors. We all held a meeting to hammer out the details of our plan this time. It was to be very simple. All of us would be on alert as we approached the camp, dropped our shields, and beamed up as many mutants as possible. Storm, Wolverine, and Gambit were picked to be the ones on the bridge operating the controls.

Hank, Panda and Shaman would be in the transporter room, ushering those to sick bay who needed it. They would also sort through those we rescued to ensure we didn't accidentally beam up any FOH soldiers.

The Professor would be there too, taking mental readings of those we beamed up. But his first priority would be to attempt to block any telepathic interference he encountered. This led the meeting down a discussion regarding the mysterious telepath. The Professor had said at the meeting that his fellow telepath had him quite baffled; at times he or she was alert to his presence and countering his every move. At other times, the telepath did nothing. "I have sensed nothing from this other telepath during our return trip to earth. I must hope that we are allowed to get even closer to earth and carry out our mission without interference."

"Professor," Storm asked at the meeting, "who do you think this other telepath is? Do you think it is the Shadow King?"

"I do not think so. The Shadow King is imprisoned on the astral plane. If he has broken free, I cannot imagine him stooping to work for the Friends of Humanity," the Professor said. "And from our encounters, I can tell it is almost certainly not him. His mental signature is quite….unique." The Professor didn't say anything more but he did look confounded. It was once whispered that the only telepath in the world who even approached his skill level---aside from the Shadow King---would've been Jean Grey. Maybe there was someone new and young----and far, far more powerful. I wondered if and when we'd learn the identity of this other telepath.

"This Mark guy might know who the telepath is," Wolverine said. Mark was not in the meeting with the rest of us but I saw the looks on everyone's faces----like we were dumbfounded that none of us had thought to ask him this! Mark had not offered any information on this, but then again, if we didn't tell him, how would he have known that we needed this information. I think we'd all been so busy and wrapped up in other things, that this somehow slipped through the cracks. Ooops. The Professor said he would ask Mark if he knew anything about this.

Back to the planning of the rescue mission. The rest of us X-men were to simply be on alert and ready for battle in the case of any mishaps during this mission. I hated to leave Jean-Paul's side in sick bay, but it would be necessary during the beam-ups. I got myself ready for another encounter, and hoped that things would go better this time around. None of us were completely satisfied with this plan as we knew it would potentially leave several mutants still at the camp.

As always, we selected at random which camp to attempt to liberate. We didn't necessarily want to return to the same one. The randomly selected camp was located in Canada.

There was one period of a few hours when I'd finished my training session, Jean-Paul was asleep in sick bay and I had nothing to do. So I decided to watch the news and see what I could find out about the happenings on earth. I hadn't done this last time but now I was curious.

It was hard to find out any real information. The GenCore company still controlled all the media and GenCoreNEWS was the only news source available. I played around on the computer, hoping to tap into some underground press or illegal websites, but I found nothing. I wanted to see if I could substantiate what one of the FOH soldiers had taunted Jean-Paul with. He had said that all gay men were being locked up by the Centers for Disease Control in an attempt to control AIDS. So I couldn't determine if that was true or not but I sure wouldn't have been surprised. Whatever the case, the mainstream media made no reference to AIDS at all, and I frustratingly could not locate any of the underground press.

We did tap into one interesting piece. We've known that FOH has been sponsoring and making propaganda about mutants for a long time now. A few of us got the idea to tap into some of that and see what was new in that arena. We downloaded a movie---one that apparently was quite popular on earth; a box-office smash. This film took place in the future and in it, mutants had taken over earth. A mutant king and queen ruled over everything. Needless to say, the portrayal of mutants was hideous. But as much as I hate to say it, the movie had beautiful cinematography and several of us actually watched most of it---disgusted at the depiction of mutants as we were. I think maybe we were missing movies and television. Or maybe we just needed a good laugh. We riffed on the movie, throwing objects at the screen and ripping it to shreds. A dark way to have fun but we did it.

Directly after the meeting, Charles sought out Mark. "Do you know whether FOH harbored any mutant telepath at the camp you worked at?"

"Yeah," Mark said, tilting his head back and trying to remember. "I never saw her myself. She was----" he stopped himself. "Only the higher ranking officers were allowed to….interact with her. But we heard she was a really powerful psychic or something. All I know is that she was supposedly really pretty and had blond hair. I think they said she was originally from England. Oh yeah! Her name was Emma something."

"I see," the Professor said, nodding. "Emma Frost."

"Do you know her?"  
  
"We have had some dealings with her in the past. Her powers have increased since then."

Jean-Paul had been moved to his quarters. He was well enough to walk for limited periods of time, though still quite weak and in need of monitoring. Emotionally, he seemed depressed. But he could not remain in sick bay --- it was cleared out for the more grave emergencies. We now had 126 rescued mutants on board Freedom!

The mission had been a success. We positioned the ship directly above the camp, dropped our shields and our cloak, and beamed up as many people as we could in 10 seconds. As FOH ships rushed towards us, the Professor, Hank and the others sorted through those we had brought on board. We did accidentally beam up about a dozen FOH soldiers. Freedom had to take evasive maneuvers and fight off a few FOH ships, but we circled back to not far from the camp and returned the FOH members. We then zoomed back into space.

A few FOH ships seemed to follow us. Though we were cloaked, they seemed to know the general direction in which we headed. They fired in that direction and followed us. It's hard to explain though----in later meetings, we thought that perhaps they couldn't detect us perfectly but they did have a sense of where we were. Whether that was due to cloak detection improvements, a telepath, or what we did not know. The Professor said, however, did not sense telepathic interference. (And he had, by the way, told us that he found out from Mark the identity of the telepath. Apparently her name was Emma Frost. I don't know her but I'd heard of her from the other's dealings with her during the Phoenix saga.)

Before liberating the camp, we had also managed to drop off a note for Sam Guthrie's family. I know Sam was very glad of that.

We now had a shipload of traumatized mutants to attend to.

As every time the X-men had rescued mutants from a Mutant Containment Center, controlled chaos reigned on board Freedom as the vessel sped back towards An'zhina. The survivors needed much tending to. All the women had been repeatedly raped and needed considerable medical and emotional attention. And many of the men had been beaten and similarly harmed by the FOH soldiers----more, it seemed, than previous camp survivors had. Their injuries and their need for emotional support and appropriate outlets were substantial as well.

Because Freedom was not being tracked by FOH, the X-men decided to require only one person on bridge duty at a time. They simply needed people to expend their energies elsewhere, and they were certain that FOH was not able to detect them.

Approximately one week after the rescue of the 126 mutants, Gambit found himself in the gym. He was working with a dozen of the camp survivors, teaching them a few basic fighting skills. Nearby, Angel supervised another 20 or so rescuees as they played a game of basketball. Meanwhile, Storm was in a conference room, working with a group of female camp survivors, trying to help them overcome trauma. The Professor was teaching a group, which included Sara Grey's son Joe, skills on controlling their powers. At all hours, the ship buzzed with activity. John and Elaine Grey had even found ways to pitch in.

The Cajun had to chuckle inwardly at the irony----the group he was working with had just come from a session that Nightcrawler had led, about the importance of finding non-violent ways to resolve conflict. Most of the group, as far as Gambit could tell, simply were not there yet. They seemed much more receptive to Gambit's teachings on how to protect themselves.

Rogue entered the gym. She smiled at the site of her husband, but had no wish to interrupt his group. Gambit was a good instructor. Though he had expressed some doubts to Rogue about his ability to teach, she silently observed and saw that he was doing quite well. Rogue had just come from a series of one-on-one sessions with different female camp survivors. Her distaste for this had not abated but those she counseled had no idea of Rogue's aversion to playing therapist. They found her a wonderful shoulder to cry on. That afternoon, Rogue needed some time to unwind. She entered the portion of the gym that served as the Danger Room, and she adroitly battled—and defeated---several Sentinels.

When Rogue left the gym, Gambit's session was winding down though a few of the mutants remained with him, seeking further instruction. And Rogue spotted that someone else had entered the gym. Mark.

Rogue had spent very little time with the former FOH member. There simply had not been much time for socializing for anyone. At the end of a weary day, she and Remy would lay in bed together---most night making love but sometimes just holding each other and talking, recapping the day's events. Hearing the horror stories from the mutants was always difficult. The most abhorrent things had become mundane. Rogue and Gambit often talked about not wanting to become callused to it all. But the former FOH soldier Mark had scarcely entered Rogue's mind.

Rogue found herself walking in Mark's direction. Mark was at work, straightening up the gym, returning some supplies and equipment to their proper place. Rogue joined him, and the two soon had that section of the gym tidy again.

"Thanks," Mark said. "Rogue, right?"

"Uh-huh," she replied. A bit fatigued from her Danger Room session, Rogue made her way to a bench and sat down. She looked in Gambit's direction and saw that her husband was on the other side of the gym now, still working with a handful of the others. She checked her timepiece. Darn it. Gambit was due on bridge duty in minutes. Once again, they likely wouldn't get any time together until after dinner.

"He seems to have a good rapport with them," Mark said, seating himself next to her on the bench and noticing the direction of Rogue's gaze.

"Yep," Rogue said, not looking at Mark. Gambit could turn up the charm on anyone he wanted to. That had never been a problem for him. He still made her melt and always would. "They already are coming to respect him," she commented. She then questioned herself. Why am I botherin' to make conversation with this piece of hog slop?'

"How has your day been?" Mark asked.

Inwardly, Rogue groaned. Keeping her eyes on Gambit across the room, Rogue decided to indulge Mark and respond. "It was fine. Had bridge duty in the mornin'. Ain't heard a peep from any of yer old pals. I spent the rest of the day working with a few of the women who survived that camp. We got some really hurt people on board this ship."

Mark nodded. He had no idea what to say now. "I imagine they really appreciate the help you're giving them."

For the first time during their conversation, Rogue turned her head and looked at Mark. "Did you rape any of the mutants when you were working at that camp?"

Mark gulped. Momentarily shocked, he groped for the right answer. A lie would get him nowhere and likely wouldn't be believed---for all he knew, this mutant had the ability to detect a lie. "Yes," he finally said.

Rogue rose from her seat, grabbed Mark by the collar with one hand, and punched him in the stomach with the other fist. Had she wanted to, Rogue could have killed him with a blow or two. She precisely controlled the degree of the jab, ensuring it would cause him severe pain but not incapacitate him. Mark yelped and fell back, coughing and sputtering. "Quit yer whinin'. That ain't but a fraction of the pain you caused," Rogue told him as Mark struggled to return to his feet. "We ougtta make you hurt instead of lettin' you walk free."

On the other side of the gym, heads turned at the sound of the commotion. Gambit started to head over towards the altercation. Meanwhile, Rogue was oblivious to all except Mark. When he had made it back on his feet, she grabbed him and violently smashed him back against a wall. "Help!" Mark cried out.

"Chere, what are you doin'??" Gambit asked, coming up beside Rogue. "What did he do to you??"

"Just givin' him a little gift," Rogue replied.

Gambit was taken aback by the flippant tone of voice from Rogue. She sounded as if she did not realize what she had done. "Did he attack you, chere?" he asked quietly.

"No," Rogue said. "But this FOH guy needs a little payback, an' that's what I'm givin' him!"

Mark looked at Rogue in terror, her steel grip now clutching his neck again. He then turned to Gambit, his eyes pleading.

"Chere," Gambit said quietly, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Stop it. He not be hurtin' you."

Rogue let go of Mark and faced Gambit. She clenched her fists in rage and fought to keep her voice steady. "He admitted that he raped mutant women at the camps he worked at! Goddamn him! This son of a bitch deserves to get his ass whipped and I'm gonna do it!"

Gambit's mouth fell open. Although he sometimes had trouble controlling his anger at FOH soldiers, the Professor had taught that violence is wrong. And in this case, it appeared unprovoked. "Chere, please," Gambit said, again keeping his voice soft and soothing. "Please stop. We t'ink of a way to handle dis later but no sense beatin' him up like dis! Dat not gonna solve nothin'." As Gambit spoke, he realized that he had to rely on Rogue's feelings for him to calm her down. Rogue was the strongest of the X-men and if she went on a rampage, Gambit could not stop her. It would take quite an effort from several X-men to subdue her, if need be. And Remy couldn't remember ever seeing Rogue so enraged. Not since that night so long ago, when the two of them and Wolverine had taken it upon themselves to destroy the FOH soldiers who had attacked them. "Chere, please. Take a deep breath."

Meanwhile, Mark used this interlude to run for his life. He bolted out of the gym. Rogue watched him go, trying to get a handle on her fury. She then turned towards her husband and narrowed her eyes. Rogue and Gambit stood there for a moment, looking at each other and neither sure what to say.

Suddenly, Gambit's communicator beeped. "Gambit, please come in," said the voice on the other end. It was Jeanne-Marie.

"Gambit here."

"Can you get to the bridge please? Not to be a pest, but you were supposed to relieve me five minutes ago, and I really want to go be with my brother now."

"Gambit be dere in a minute, Jeanne-Marie." He glanced at his timepiece. Darn Jeanne-Marie! He silently cursed her. By Gambit's watch, he wasn't late at all. Had he left right then, he would have been on time.

Gambit clicked his communicator off and then faced Rogue. "Chere, we talk bout dis later, okay? I gotta go."

Rogue nodded and Gambit made his way to the bridge.

Rogue couldn't wait for Gambit's shift to be over. Halfway through it, she strode onto the bridge.

"Chere!" Gambit exclaimed, seeing her in the entranceway as the doors to the bridge parted.

"I wanna talk to you, mister!" she proclaimed, marching right up to him. Gambit stood up from the captain's chair he had been on. Rogue's hair was askew, eyes red, appearing as if perhaps she had been crying. Gambit was loathe to see her in this mood and opened his mouth to say something comforting, but she cut him off. "What the hell were ya doin', sticking up for that no-good Friends of Humanity shit?!"

"Chere, please. Get a hold of yourself. Gambit not----"

"You heard what he did! I could have been one the girls he hurt! I ain't gonna put up with this crap!"

Gambit's patience flew out the window. His voice reached a decibel that Rogue was not used to hearing from him, certainly not directed at herself. "Chere, listen! You know we on the same side here. But Mark not hurtin' anyone right now. You were gonna hurt him real bad jus' for the sake of hurtin' him an' Gambit can't allow an innocent man to----"

"Innocent?!" she screeched.

"Will you stop cuttin' me off?!" he yelled back.

"Why shouldn't I? You ain't listenin' to a word I'm sayin'! You don't care bout what happened to me!" she said, her voice now quaking while attempting to hold back tears.

"You know dat ain't true, chere," Gambit replied, his voice lower and steadier now.

But Rogue was not in a mood to listen. Fighting back more tears and too angry to listen, she stormed off the bridge.

It turned out that Jean-Paul and I were no longer the only gay people on board the ship! I met a young lesbian woman named Dani Moonstar----though she usually just went by Moonstar. She was the polar opposite of Marrow, the only other lesbian mutant I knew. Moonstar was serious, quiet and reflective. Her background was Native American and she was only about 21. She had long dark hair and austere features that belied her young age. She was not beautiful, not in the way that most mutant women were. But her eyes were kind and deep, her small mouth determined.

Moonstar and I hit it off when we hung out together----not that anyone had much spare time. She spent many hours working with the Professor to get her powers under control. She had the ability to take images from other people's minds and turn them into three-dimensional objects. Needless to say, it was a power that requires some degree of control, and she'd had no real training. She said she wanted to train as an X-man, and Storm said she had plans to get Dani up to speed on essential ship functions including bridge duty. I enjoyed her company quite a bit. I remembered sitting next to her at lunch one day, wishing that Jeanne-Marie and I could have the kind of effortless rapport that Moonstar and I now had after only a few days of meeting.

Moonstar was also an amazing singer. She played the flute as well, and was given permission to replicate one. Many times during the trip she would sing to us or play for us in the rec room. She also played for camp survivors, using music to help heal, even though she herself was also a survivor. (I asked her a few times but she said she didn't want to talk about it. She said she'd only been in the camp for a few weeks and acted totally unphased by it. I respected her desire to not open up about it.) Her voice and her playing were divine. I'd heard nothing akin to her uncanny voice since the natives on the Paradise Planet sang and played for us. The others who heard her sing or play were equally entranced by her music.

Being with Moonstar was a nice diversion from my dire situation with Northstar.

Jean-Paul was getting better physically, but mentally he was not himself. When he had first regained consciousness days ago, he'd seemed back to normal. But it was like with each passing day it got worse. I think that maybe the memories of the torture came back, the memories of what the soldiers did to him started to haunt him. But that was all speculation since he wouldn't talk to me. Some days the only thing he said to me was to get out of his room.

He was angry and moody all the time and he kept to his quarters most of the day. As far as I could tell, he almost never left. Jeanne-Marie or I brought him meals.

I remember one time, perhaps a day or two after we had rescued the 126 mutants. An exhausted Hank and equally tired-looking Panda visited Jean-Paul and I in Jean-Paul's quarters. Hank used the tricorder to examine him. He pronounced him basically well. He then added, "Given what the soldiers did to you, and given the surgery you endured, I must recommend that you not engage in anoreceptive intercourse for six to eight weeks."

"What the hell is that?" I asked, smiling, trying to make it a joke and lighten things up.

Jean-Paul looked at me and his voice was bitter. "He says you can't fuck me in the ass for a while." He then turned to Hank. "No big deal. We usually do it the other way around anyway. Can I still fuck him?"

I stood there, my face turning beet red. I wasn't ashamed about what we did in bed----not really, not around Hank--- but I was hurting at the way Jean-Paul sounded. His tone of voice was so acrid and angry. I don't have any objections to the word "fuck" and I think in the right context, it can be very sexy. But using it this way, talking about our lovemaking so callously as that in front of Hank and Panda…..it just hurt like I'd been slapped in the face.

Although Panda looked taken aback, Hank was unflustered. He just said something to the effect that he thought that would be alright. He then added, "I advise you to use condoms at least for the next six to twelve months. As you know, the results of the tests for sexually transmitted diseases you both have participated in are negative but these infections sometimes can take a year to appear on a test result." Soon after that, the two doctors left us. I sat down on the bed next to Jean-Paul and asked him if he wanted to talk about what happened.

"No," he muttered. "I want to be alone."

With that, he turned on his side, facing away from me. I stood there for a second or two. Finally, I whispered, "I love you." I bent down and kissed the back of his head. No response from Jean-Paul. I left the room, went back to my quarters, and cried like a baby.

Storm stood in the gym, feeling as if knives were cutting and maiming the inside and outside of her body. No, she thought, knives would have been preferable to this mental anguish. She took a deep breath, trying and failing to simply will away the pain of jealousy.

She had been working out in the gym. Sara Grey entered the gym not long after, her daughter Gail in tow. The two had been trying out the myriad exercise machines.

And then Wolverine had entered the gym. Without a glance in Storm's direction, he had gone directly up to Sara, heading straight for his prize. Storm's hearing was pretty good. Wolverine was instructing Sara and Gail on the proper use of the machines, giving them tips and advice.

They then discussed more serious subjects. Storm heard Sara and Logan talking about the camp survivors, Sara commenting on how shocked and horrified she was at the condition of the rescued mutants. Logan tried to comfort her. Storm heard the tone in his voice and saw the look on his face when he addressed Sara. It was that look again. The look that Storm had never been the benefactor of. And such gentleness. Logan had been like that around Jean too.

Storm could not bear to observe any more. She exited the gym, as unobtrusively as possible. Heading down the hallway, she nearly crashed right into Rogue.

"Oh!" Rogue exclaimed. "Sorry, sugar. I ain't watchin' where I'm goin.'"

Storm looked at her friend. "Rogue. What's wrong?"

"Nuthin.'" Rogue mumbled.

Storm smiled and placed both her hands on the younger woman's shoulders. "I know you far too well, my beloved friend."

Rogue smiled, knowing the truth of what Storm said. "Aw, Storm. Remy and I quarreled! We quarreled bad. I could kick him; I'm so mad!"

"You did? Care to talk about it?"

Rogue looked down and then back up, meeting her friend's gaze. "Yeah. But I gotta get to bridge duty. I'm almost 10 minutes late already and I don't think Bobby's gonna be too happy. You wanna talk on the bridge?"

"I'd love to."

They proceeded to the bridge in relative silence. It was hard to get used to the halls of Freedom being full once again, but there were mutants all over. Many nodded or otherwise acknowledged Storm and Rogue. This time, though, fortunately no one stopped them to talk. Their brisk strides made it obvious that they were in a hurry.

"Sorry I'm late, Bobby," Rogue said, once they arrived.

"It's okay," Bobby mumbled, his eyes downcast.

Storm looked at Bobby and looked at Rogue. So much sadness on board this ship, she mused. So much pain and heartbreak in the world. I guess it is part of being alive,' Storm mused philosophically. It helps us to appreciate the good times.' Of course, that wisdom was doing little to console Storm herself.

"I am making a mental note to speak with Bobby when I get a chance," Storm proclaimed, as she and Rogue settled into the Captain and First Officer's seats.

"Yeah, he looks pretty sad, don't he? Seems like Jean-Paul is takin' forever to recover. And word is that he ain't in the best of moods either."

"Well, I can certainly understand why. He was horribly tortured. Everyone reacts differently to that."

"Seems you hardly react at all, girl," Rogue said.

Storm just smiled. "You know how I prefer to keep my emotions in check. It is necessary. But as for Bobby, he needs an outlet."

"I know. We gotta make sure he doesn't go back to the way he was before….wanting to take his own life."

Storm voiced her assent and then pressed a few buttons on her console. Space was vast and very quiet. No signs of activity within sensor range. "So care to tell me what you and Remy argued about?"

"I guess so. It's makin' me crazy." Rogue went on to describe her interaction with Mark, which Gambit had observed. She then described the fight on the bridge. "Maybe I was wrong to hit him," she was saying. "But the guy admitted he was a rapist! We got a ship filled with women who've been hurt from guys like him----and half of em have been crying on my shoulder. And yours too. Remy acted like it was no big deal!"

"I understand your anger at Mark. But surely you understand Gambit's point of view as well? I cannot imagine that he is not as angry as you about the actions Mark has done. I am sure he disagreed with the thought of beating up Mark though."

"Yeah, I get where Remy's comin' from. Mark didn't do anything wrong that day and I hit him. And threw him against a wall and I probably would've done more if Remy hadn't asked me to stop. But I still think the jerk still deserved it. Specially considerin' he ain't ever gonna get punished for what he did."

"It is an interesting dilemma," Storm said, her voice far away and her thoughts momentarily away from her two friends' relationship. "The Professor says he poses no harm to us, and I certainly believe him. But should Mark be punished sometime for what he's done? And if so, how? Do we construct a jail cell on An'zhina and leave him there? And if so, for what duration of time?"

"Hell, I dunno and that's why I attacked him! I get so angry and that's the best way to get it out." Rogue sighed. "I really do know where Remy was comin' from though." She paused and then continued, "And I know he loves me and he's as angry about what FOH soldiers did---are doing---as I am." Rogue paused and shook her head. "Heck, maybe what I'm pissed about is that he was probably right. Or maybe I'm really pissed that I let my anger get a hold of me like that. You shoulda seen me yellin' at Remy on the bridge. I just ain't as controlled as you, Storm but I don't like runnin' wild either."

Rogue went on to speak a bit more about what she planned to do next. She said she would talk with Remy once she had cooled down a bit. "We'll work it out," she said. "We always do."

"I know you will. You and Gambit have been through too much to let something like this harm your relationship. I am sure that once you both have cooled down, you will be able to understand each other better."

Rogue then turned and looked at Storm. "Hey….what's eatin' you, girl?"

The Wind Rider looked down at her console. "Nothing," she finally said.  
  
"Nothing?? I think I know you too well, Storm. Don't tell me-----"

Storm's communicator sounded. "Storm, please come in. This is Shaman. Can you come to sick bay? Megan is asking for you. She sounds like she really needs someone to talk to now and she is insisting on you."

Storm leapt to her feet. "I am on my way, Shaman."

As Storm headed for the doors, Rogue called after her. "I ain't forgettin' this, Storm! We're gonna talk!" Storm was gone before Rogue finished both sentences.

Chapter 14

Chapter 16 


	16. Chapter 16

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 16

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 16

A shuttle stealthily traversed the galaxy. With its reinforced cloaking device, it was invisible to all known technology. Tiny and swift, the vessel of retribution warped about.

A new blip appeared on the monitor. Marrow had been sitting in her seat, munching on dinner. Psylocke was sitting at a terminal, engrossed in a computer game. "Hey, look at this," Marrow said, breaking the thick silence. The two women lived in such close quarters that they went through periods of time in mutually agreed upon silence. The shuttle---which was their home now--- was the size of most studio apartments and both wanted to minimize the number of arguments they engaged in.

"Is it an FOH ship?" Psylocke wondered out loud, punching a few buttons on her computer to bring up the image.

"Not sure right now. It's going at warp 3. We should be close enough to tell what it is in a few hours. We got several days before we catch up to it though."

Betsy rubbed her palms together and smiled. "I hope it's Fuckers on Heroin. I can't wait!"

Marrow returned her smile. "Neither can I."

I have such wonderful friends and I'm lucky to be in such an amazing family. I think that's what it boils down to. Without the others, I'm sure I would've gone nuts.

Within a 48 hour time span, I was approached by Hank, the Professor, Storm, Rogue, Gambit, and Dani Moonstar. And even Nightcrawler, whom I hadn't considered myself all that close to. With all the craziness happening on board the ship with 126 camp survivors to tend to and everyone stressed to the hilt, all of these people asked me if I need to talk and offered their advice. All asked me to come talk to them whenever I felt bad, no matter how busy they were. Heck, even Wolverine made a point to go up to me after a Danger Room session that I botched and ask something like, "You okay?"

Hank suggested I be patient with Jean-Paul, reminding me that these things take time. The Professor told me a bit about working with torture victims----both what he was doing now with the camp survivors and years ago, the work he did when he was in his twenties. "Each survivor reacts differently to torture. Some recover relatively quickly. Others take weeks or months before they feel like or act like themselves again."

"But Jean-Paul has survived torture before!" I protested. "He survived it before and the torture he went through last time lasted for weeks, not a day or two!"

"The duration of the torture is not such a significant factor, in general, in determining how quickly the victim recovers."

"But he's got such a good….support system! He has me and Jeanne-Marie fawning over him, and Hank and Shaman checking in on him all the time, as busy as they are. Yet he just lays there, he's angry and grumpy every time I go to him. He doesn't want to talk about what happened or say a word about anything to me. He never even bothers to reply when I tell him that I love him." My voice cracked and arms flailed as I spoke. The Professor---and all the others I listed above---got to see the dark, angsty side of me. And I didn't care one bit, I was so miserable.

"I know you are very upset about this, Bobby. But try to put yourself in Northstar's mindset for a while. Try to empathize with how he must be feeling now."

Hearing the Professor say that, it was eerie. I remembered, years ago, giving similar advice to Gambit after Rogue had been tortured. He was distraught like I was. And it took a while for Rogue to get back to being herself. Like, several months. I think maybe Gambit has more patience and mental fortitude than I.

"Do you think our relationship will survive?" I asked the Professor. I was pouring my heart out to him and desperate for him to say something more reassuring. " I want it to go back to how it was before."

"Relationships grow and change, Bobby. It might never be quite how it was before. It might perhaps be even better someday."

I knew that that the Professor and others gave sage advice. All of it made sense and was logical. But my heart still sank when I'd enter Jean-Paul's room and he'd barely acknowledge my existence. Or on the rare occasions when he'd join the group for dinner, looking haggard, hardly eating anything and speaking to no one other than Jeanne-Marie.

I was jealous of Jeanne-Marie. Bitterly, angrily, almost violently jealous. I never was jealous of her before, at least not like this. Jean-Paul didn't shut her out as he did me. They spent time together. I don't know what they discussed or how they behaved together since they didn't include me. I just had the glimpses I saw the few times they ate meals with the group.

And Hank and the others reminded me that Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie are twins, they have a special bond, they love each other dearly and they have known each other their entire lives. Yeah, it was logical but it didn't make me feel any better either.

Back on An'zhina, Scott and Jean sat facing Jubilee late one evening. The couple had been in this position several weeks before. Back then, Jubilee had bounded into their room, ecstatic, as she had just experienced her first kiss.

Now Jubilee cried as she paced the room, alternating between despair and anger. "But how could he??" she was asking. "And how could she?"

Scott looked at Jean. She knew he was at a loss for words. Jean herself was grasping for something that could help Jubilee feel better. "It's good that you're letting it all out," Jean said quietly. "Don't hold it in."

"Like I ever hold anything in! Jean, he dumped me! Lisman dumped me. And for Siryn! How could she just come in and do that??"

As Jubilee vented, Scott looked nervously around the room. Both Charlotte and Christopher were asleep and he hoped Jubilee would not wake them. Especially Christopher, who had a tendency to wake up three -- or sometimes more – times per night. "There are other fish in the sea," Scott said. "You'll find someone else."

Jean winced a bit. She knew Scott meant well but didn't think his words would be particularly helpful.

"I don't want someone else! It's Lisman I want."

It had all been going so well. Jubilee and Lisman spent time together usually every day. They took walks, holding hands. Had their meals together. Lisman brought her flowers several times. They danced together during Agata's salsa lessons, and others commented on how close they appeared. Jubilee's daughter liked Lisman and he was sweet on her too, oftentimes playing games with her. His ease with the child appeared natural. Jubilee and Lisman also would retreat to one of their rooms to kiss and hold each other---sometimes engaging in what older people fondly called "heavy petting."

But then Banshee's daughter Siryn set her eyes on Lisman. She moved in and Jubilee ended up dumped like a hot potato for the beautiful blonde woman who was just a couple years younger than she.

"I mean, what was it all about then??" Jubilee was saying. "Was he just kidding when he told me how much I meant to him??" Or, she silently added, how beautiful I am? "How could he just drop me for Siryn like that?? I don't know who I'm more pissed at----him or her!"

With that last burst, Christopher had indeed woken from his slumber. Jean and Scott exchanged a look, and Scott rose from the sofa to tend to the baby. "Relationships are never easy," Jean said. "Sometimes you have to kiss a few frogs before you find a prince. But regardless, relationships take work and sometimes you do get your heart broken."

"Oh yeah, like what would you know of that??

Jean smiled tolerantly. "Jubilee, you know I dated other guys before Scott."

"What? You did?!" Scott called from the other end of the room, feigning shock.

Jean rolled her eyes, knowing Scott truly was pretending to be upset. "When you have a mindlink with someone, you can't deceive them about anything. Still, you----"

"When am I going to find someone I to have a mindlink with?"" Jubilee cried out, in despair. How could it be? There were so many happy couples among the X-men and Jubilee was left alone. Why didn't she deserve the same happiness? She then fleetingly thought of what Wolverine might say---something along the lines of, Life ain't fair.' Jean and Scott continued to do their best to console their young friend that evening. Eventually, Jubilee said she had to get going. "I'd better go check on Aurora. She's been waking up a few times after I put her down in the evenings lately. And heaven knows she's still not interested in using the potty so I probably am gonna have another diaper to change!"

As Jubilee walked back to her room, she realized she had not exactly been truthful in describing her feelings for Lisman. She liked Lisman a lot. She loved the attention he showered on her and loved that he said she was beautiful. He was handsome and sort of charming, in a shy/quiet sort of way. But during their entire relationship---brief as it was----she had not felt the connection that she had with, say, Wolverine or Storm or Bobby. It wasn't the same type of bonding, though Jubilee had fervently hoped it would grow into that.

Well, so much for that,' she sighed to herself.

After Jubilee had left the room, Scott turned to Jean and said, "Lisman had better hope that Wolverine doesn't get his hands on him."

An exhausted Gambit returned to his quarters, rubbing his sore shoulder. He soon flopped down onto the bed, glad that another tiring day was over. Bridge duty, supervising mutants, breaking up fights among people, getting in a few hours of training, trying to console Bobby a bit, and even being sought out to provide a listening ear to a few of the rescuees. And then the fight with Wolverine. All of this wouldn't be so bad if he and Rogue were on speaking terms.

Their big fight had been yesterday. After Gambit had finished his bridge duty shift, he'd gone to the rec room. Rogue had been there, but when she saw him, she got up to leave. By the time Gambit had retired to their room that night, Rogue was already asleep. When he woke up, she'd already gotten up and started her day.

And then today, they had barely passed each other at all. At lunch, Rogue appeared engrossed in a conversation with Nightcrawler and didn't give Remy a passing glance --- which raised a few eyebrows among the other X-men.

Gambit was repetitively shuffling his deck of cards and debating whether or not to make the first move towards a reconciliation when the door slid aside and Rogue entered their quarters. At the sight of her, Gambit sat up.

"I miss you, Remy."

Gambit was glad that she'd spoken first. Her voice was back to spun sugar. He exhaled and felt faith filling him. They were going to patch things up after all. They always did. "I miss you too, chere."

"I suppose we gotta talk bout this," she said softly, moving close to the bed and seating herself in a chair.

"Not unless we wanna go on ignoring each other. Chere, Gambit been t'inkin'. I totally understan' why you mad at Mark. I wanna hit him too for what he did. But Gambit don't know the right way to fix dis. Beatin' the crap outta him ain't gonna solve anyt'ing dough."

"It never does," Rogue admitted. "Well, cept for temporarily makin' me feel better." She took a deep breath. "But I was so mad. Here he is, walkin' around free while all the women his former buddies banged up are just about goin' hog wild on us." Although many of the rescued mutants were indeed making progress due to the help of the X-men, several of the women had, it appeared, already gone over the brink of madness. Some had been in that camp for over a year. Many of them now lay in beds in sick bay motionless or walked about the ship like zombies. Others ranted and raved incoherently. Many of them wasted away, refusing to eat --- while others drowned their sorrows in heaps of food. All of the X-men were stressed to the hilt, trying to rehabilitate these mutants. And although the male rescuees had not been sexually assaulted, many of them had severely damaged psyches as well.

"We all so stressed and tired, chere. None of us X-men ever thought we be spendin' our lives as counselors takin' care of dese mutants. I understand what you did. Gambit sometimes feel dat way. Like he'd love to make a lot of FOH soldiers feel all de pain dey caused others."

Rogue nodded. "And fightin' feels good. I needed to pick a fight that day. Or two."

"Gambit knows what you mean. Wolverine an' I had a knock down fight today," he admitted. Every now and then, he felt the urge to beat someone up. Wolverine looked as if his day had been equally miserable and the two men had fought.

"You did?" For the first time during their conversation, Rogue took a deep look at her husband in the dim light. She stepped closer to the bed and noticed a bruise. "I didn't see that before," she said guiltily. "Are you okay, Remy?"

Gambit shrugged. "Gambit be alright. The hairy guy an' me had it out wit' each other. We both jus' feelin' the stress and needed someone to fight wit'. We did it for old times' sake. It be okay dough. We friends again now."

"But look at this wound---you're hurt." Rogue fussed over him for a while, tending his wounds, helping him remove his boots, fluffing his pillows. When Gambit was more comfortable, Rogue sat next to him on the bed and placed her arms around him.

"Well, Remy, what do you think we should do bout Mark?"

"I dunno, chere. Maybe we should ask the Professor. Maybe dere be some way Mark can make up for what he did." Gambit's head spun. He was too tired to think about it. On earth, criminals sometimes performed community service as penance. The trouble was with An'zhina being self-cleaning, there was not much in the way of maintenance work to be done. Practically all of the boring "grunt" work got taken care of by itself.

"Poor Professor," Rogue said, tilting her head back and thinking of her beloved foster father. "He looks so tired. He got bags under his eyes now like I swear he never had before."

"The Professor ain't no spring chicken anymore. None of us are. Gambit be t'inking that if we back on earth, old One-Eye would be celebratin' 40 soon."

"Really?" Rogue asked. She thought about it and nodded, "Yeah, I guess that seems bout right. That big party we had when he was 35 seems eons ago." She shuddered, thinking how far away their years on earth now were. Almost as if a lifetime had passed. "We gotta tease Cyke when we get back. You know how he loves to be teased. Specially by you."

The couple giggled, glad to have something to smile over. They talked together a bit more, hugging and holding each other until they slowly made love. Gambit mused that this was the best part of a fight---making up.

Rogue's memory kept returning to the old days, how it was when they used to make love before she had mastered her powers, and before they'd used inhibitor collars. They had engineered a latex body suit for Rogue. Gambit used to touch her and lick her through the material, and they used to put lube between her breasts or thighs for him to thrust between. Every once in a while, Gambit and Rogue bandied about the idea of paying homage to the old days and making love as they used to. Rogue reminded herself to bring it up sometime. It's just that now that they had this, it was impossible to give up.

Afterwards, they cuddled up together, each thinking how fulfilling it was to have the other in their arms once more. The previous night, with each flung on their own side of the bed, had been tough.

"Hey, Remy?" she began quietly.

"Hmmmmm?" he asked.

"When you wanna have children?"

"Gambit t'ink he'd like to have you all to himself a little while longer."

"How much longer?"

"Why you ask? You want em now, chere?"

"Not right now. But soon. Maybe in a year or so."

There was silence for a moment as Gambit thought. "Okay. Gambit can go wit' dat."

Rogue sensed some hesitancy in his voice and decide to probe a bit. "Were you thinkin' of waitin' longer, sugar?"

"Gambit had been t'inking maybe a bit longer den dat. A baby be nice, chere, but you see how it changed Scott and Jean's lives. An' Jubilee's. Gambit likes some lazy time alone with his chere….like right now. Not havin' to worry bout a baby cryin.' Once you have the li'l ones, you can't go back." He paused. "You know, we wouldn't be able to do dis like we do now….whenever we want."

"All we gotta do is get em on a schedule. That's what Jean says. Get the kids on a schedule – won't be as spontaneous as we're used to but we can adapt."

"True, chere. True."

"What if we were to wait a year and then start tryin' to have kids? It might take a while for me to get pregnant. And by the time the baby comes, we'll have had more time to ourselves."

"Dat sounds good. You like dat plan, chere? Dat sound good to you and not be too far in de future?"

She snuggled closer to him and answered honestly, "Yes."

At dinner the next day, Rogue had her antenna up. She hadn't forgotten her conversation with Storm a couple days ago. The Wind Rider clearly was upset about something. Yes, Storm hid it well but Rogue was becoming more and more adept at interpreting her friend's facial expressions----minimalist as they sometimes were. Even a person as controlled as Storm gave out small clues by way of body language. At first, Rogue had been thinking it was the rape that Storm was disturbed about. As far as Rogue knew, Storm still had elected not to speak about it with anyone.

Rogue leaned forward in her seat and continued to observe as people munched and talked away. She was fascinated. Ever since they'd liberated the camp, Rogue had had so much on her mind----all the rescued mutants to tend to and then the altercation with Remy. She was now finally able to turn her attention back towards her friend ---- and she watched.

Storm was glancing at Wolverine and then subtly glancing at Sara Grey. Storm then looked down at her plate. Over the course of the meal, she did this more than once and she spoke little. Although Storm's facial expression remained placid, Rogue saw something in Storm's eyes. A hint of pain. Well-masked, but pain nonetheless. It had to be. Back on An'zhina, Storm had finally admitted to Rogue that she was in love with Wolverine.

Of course. Wolverine had the hots for Sara. That's what was making Storm so sad. Rogue blinked. It was so obvious now, the way Wolverine was looking at Sara. It was the same way he looked at Jean. Even the times they spoke, she could hear his voice soften a bit----the usual gruffness somehow lessened when he addressed Sara.

Rogue took another bite of her baked potato and wondered why Wolverine might be so interested in Sara. She wasn't a Jean-clone. Sara was pretty but she wasn't quite the stunner that her older sister was. In addition to her dazzling beauty, Jean had a way of filling up a room with light and gentle warmth. She had an alluring combination of strength and womanliness. Sara just wasn't that radiant. Even her hair was more of a dull auburn as opposed to Jean's shimmering red. Sara's eyes were smaller, deeper set, and not as sparkling. But there was a similarity between the two sisters---in their movements, their voices, and even the inflections they used on some words.

Rogue clenched her fist. Wolverine needed a bucket of cold water dumped on his head. The idiot. She loved him like a brother, but he could be such a shit. I oughtta grab him by the neck and beat some sense into him,' she thought. He's got a great woman in Storm.'

Later on that evening, Rogue pursued Storm but Storm told her she had a group she was counseling that evening followed by late night/early morning bridge duty. Any discussion would have to wait.

One day, the Professor and Storm sat together in a meeting room. The two leaders discussed various administrative items that needed to be settled----none of them major. They were approximately halfway through their journey back to An'zhina and everyone looked forward to reaching their new home.

"Storm, there is one other thing I wanted to discuss with you," the Professor was saying.

"Yes, Charles?"

"Do you think we as a team are in need of some healing once again? Perhaps something along the lines of another healing ceremony, as Shaman did for us so long ago. I think we need it for two different reasons. The first being that everyone on board this ship is so tired and under stress. I feel their weariness of both body and spirit." The Professor paused. Storm was silently taking in his words. "And secondly, because of our experience as captives of FOH once again. Colossus was killed. You were assaulted. Northstar was as well. Any attack like this weakens the team, hurts our psyches. It needs to be addressed."

It was so degrading, Storm thought, to have been raped in front of the team. True, they had all turned their backs but they could hear everything. She also imagined it had been fairly degrading for Northstar (and Bobby) to be verbally gay-bashed, hearing the vile anti-gay taunts, in front of the others. Storm liked keeping her memories of that experience shunted towards the back of her mind and had no wish to dwell on them or bring them out once more.

There was something else too. This time, Storm had been the only one of the women raped; she had been singled out. That horrible five-letter word that everyone tried to banish kept rearing its ugly head. _Shame._

Yet still, at the same time, she understood the wisdom of the Professor's idea. Storm knew it because she said similar things to the women she counseled every day: you cannot ignore what has happened; we need to heal and move on; trying to forget about it will not work in the long run. I would be a hypocrite to refuse the Professor's idea, as much as I dislike it.' Then a thought came into her own mind.

"I think some healing is in order," she said. "But I think it would be best if we do this after Colossus's funeral. Mourn the dead first and then try to heal from the trauma."

"I agree, Storm."

After another long and busy day, Wolverine returned to his quarters and prepared for bed. He stripped his clothes off and settled underneath the covers.

Possessing enhanced senses had its drawbacks, Wolverine noted as he tried to sleep but was woken up by voices. His room was a few doors down from Northstar's and he heard the man arguing with his lover. Or perhaps former lover, from the way things sounded----not that Logan kept tabs on other people's relationships or had any interest in gossip about this topic. But his super-sensitive hearing could not block out their feud, even through these sturdy walls. The two were very loud.

"You haven't had one kind word to say to me since the surgery!" Bobby was saying. Instead of conveying anger, his voice was filled with anguish and sorrow. "I've waited on you hand and foot and it's like you don't care about me at all!"

"Shut up!" Northstar said. He sounded tired and extremely angry, and he spoke louder than Bobby. "You have no idea what I've been through! None! I don't need you in here, brow-beating me for being upset!"

"I'm not trying to do that. I've been trying to help! But you act like you can't stand the sight of me."

"Why should I? You don't really care about me, you selfish little shit! You're just upset because you're not getting all the attention you're used to. And you're embarrassed about our relationship, oui?!"

"Yeah, right, I'm embarrassed," Bobby said, his voice filled with bitter sarcasm. "That's why I asked you to dance at Rogue and Gambit's wedding. That's why I hold your hand in public all the time! I'm embarrassed."

Wolverine made a conscious effort to tune them out. Still, it was hard to hear Bobby so distressed. He liked the guy, even though Bobby had nearly trembled in his boots with fear around Wolverine at first when he had re-joined the X-men. And then there had been that crush Bobby used to have on him. Oh well. It wasn't his fault and it hadn't really bothered Wolverine that much as long as he didn't dwell on it. Once Northstar had stepped back into the picture, Bobby's crush had disappeared. But Logan had to respect Bobby for some of the things he did---like taking that karate class with him and the improvement he'd seen in Bobby's skills since he had rejoined the team. It was a bummer to hear the guy so distraught and his boyfriend being such a jerk.

Well, I got my own problems,' Wolverine muttered to himself before falling asleep.

I was on bridge duty. I hated it now more than ever. Since we now only had one person on the bridge at a time, I sat there alone with no one to talk to and only my thoughts, worrying about Jean-Paul and whether he'd ever be well again or if we'd ever be a couple again. I couldn't concentrate on any of the computer games I played.

Suddenly, I was jolted from my thoughts. A blip appeared on the radar screen and a corresponding sound from the computer alerted me to the presence of an FOH ship. As per our standard procedure, I put Freedom on yellow alert. The Professor, Storm, Rogue and Nightcrawler entered the bridge within minutes.

We had encountered this before. The uncloaked FOH ship continued on its way, apparently oblivious to our presence. As the distance between our ships lessened, the Professor said he was able to scan some of the minds on board the FOH ship. "Hundreds of soldiers," he was saying. "They are unaware of us." He continued to, I presume, search their minds and after a little bit added, . "They are on a standard mapping mission and are-----" The Professor stopped abruptly.

"Professor?" Storm asked.

"Psylocke and Marrow are nearby," he said low.

I looked down at my terminal and quickly ran some advanced scans. "I don't see anything," I said. "But of course they're gonna be cloaked," I added clumsily. Duh.

"They have every intention of repeating what they did to the crew of the Fitzpatrick."

We all exchanged nervous looks with each other. If Psylocke and Marrow had a repeat performance, it would mean grisly deaths for the hundreds of FOH soldiers on board that ship.

"We must speak with them," Nightcrawler said. "We must convince them that what they plan to do is wrong."

I saw Rogue shrug. "We could ask or tell them not to, but you really think they're gonna listen? They seemed pretty hell-bent on revenge. I don't think there's much we can say to em to try to change their minds."

"We must at least try," Nightcrawler insisted.

Storm said, "I tend to agree with Rogue. The chances of them abiding by our request are slim."

The Professor made the decision. "Let's not be so negative and assume they will not listen. Let's invite them on board this ship and have a dialog with them."

"And what if they refuse?" Storm asked. "Do we then forcibly prevent them from carrying out their plans?"

Some more discussion followed, but I decided to be a bum and not take part in any of it. Hell, I sure didn't have the right answer and all I thought about was Jean-Paul.

The Professor then made telepathic contact with Psylocke and Marrow. He invited them to come aboard and talk. He told us that they refused.

"Now what?" Rogue asked.

"Professor, you are certain that they plan to torture and kill the Friends of Humanity on board that ship, yes?" Nightcrawler asked.

The Professor nodded. "Psylocke just confirmed it with me."

"Then we must stop them. Let us use the tractor beam and reel them in but we cannot allow them to kill," Nightcrawler insisted.

I've known the Professor for many years now and I can generally read the expressions on his face. He usually is fairly resolute – not at all small-minded but he generally displays confidence and knows what the "right" course of action is. At least the right course for him. During our days on the Paradise Planet, when we debated helping the natives, I saw a bit of that resolve waiver though he stuck to his guns. This time, however, the Professor really looked as if he was not sure what to do.

"We could do as you say, Kurt, and forcibly restrain Psylocke and Marrow," Storm said. "But that scenario creates problems of its own. How long do we force them to stay aboard Freedom when they clearly don't want to be here? Do we do it indefinitely? Are we to be their jailers? That would be ironic, given that they freed us from certain death at the hands of FOH."

"Storm's right," Rogue said. "And let's say we do become their jailers, at least for a bit. What's to keep em from going after FOH the minute we let em out of our grasp? I don't think we oughtta force them aboard here if they don't wanna be here. And especially not after they rescued us."

"But if we do nothing, we will be allowing them to destroy innocent life!" Nightcrawler said.

"FOH ain't so innocent, sugar."

"Are you suggesting that we allow them to do this??"

"Let me put it this way. The thought of a few FOH bastards gettin' what they deserve don't bother me all that much."

Nightcrawler looked shocked but Rogue didn't seem a bit rueful. The two of them and Storm then looked in the direction of the Professor. "What should we do, Professor?" Storm asked.

I saw the Professor quickly remove the hint of doubt on his face. "I would recommend this. We give them one more chance to turn away from their plans. If they do not agree to it----and I doubt they will----we then bring them aboard this ship and give them the option to turn away from pursuit of the FOH ship or be forcibly restrained from attacking them. Bring Psylocke and Marrow back on board Freedom will give us another chance to talk with them. Maybe we can change their minds about their violent plans."

"And maybe pigs will fly," Rogue muttered under her breath, but I heard her well----as I have to imagine the Professor did too.

Within less than an hour, many of the X-men were sitting in a conference room with Psylocke and Marrow on board Freedom. "I cannot believe you X-men would stoop to this," Psylocke said, her voice low, arms crossed in front of her chest. "Roping us in with the tractor beam as if you're an FOH vessel hunting down two stray mutants. I just can't believe it," she repeated, looking coldly upon the face of her former teacher.

"And we saved your asses!" Marrow exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. "If it wasn't for us, you would've been torn to pieces by that Smith maniac. Slowly and painfully."

"We risked our lives to get you out of there and this is how you repay it? By kidnapping us!"

"All we ask," the Professor began, "is that you listen to us."

"I know what you're going to say, Charles, and you've said it to me a million times," Betsy remarked dully. "Killing is wrong, it is wrong to hurt other people, we have to live in peace, turn the other cheek, blah blah blah."

"Except when it's X-men killing the FOH soldiers who tortured them," Marrow grumbled after Psylocke had said Killing is wrong.'

"Betsy, Marrow," Storm began, "we feel as if we failed you. I know the Professor worked long and hard with you, Betsy. And he would have liked to work with you too, Marrow. He wants----we want----for both of you to get better. To recover from your ordeals."

"You're acting like we're mentally ill, Storm," Marrow said, irritated, facing down coldly the woman she secretly still admired. "We're not. All over earth, men are brutalizing women---mutant women----and no one ever pays them back for it. We do."

"Our response is the only sane one," Psylocke added.

"But you both are feeling so much pain and anger. Work with us and let us help you through it," Storm insisted. She noticed that the Professor was deferring to her for the time being, perhaps knowing that Psylocke and Marrow would react more favorably to another woman.

"Yeah, I am angry," Marrow said. "Killing FOH scum is the best healing in the world."

"Way better than sitting down in front of someone and bearing my soul to them and hearing them sputter platitudes at me for a few hours each day," Psylocke said. Having mutant powers similar to Charles's, she knew her comment succeeded in wounding him.

"Marrow, when I hear you talk about killing FOH scum', you sound eerily similar to the Friends of Humanity, talking about us," the Professor said. "I find that disturbing. Don't you?"

"No. This is war, Chuck. I wish Magneto were still alive so we could fight it properly. But since we can't, we're using some guerrilla tactics," Marrow replied. "And getting revenge."

"The FOH soldiers who you're out to kill," Storm began, after an awkward pause, "have families and loved ones. Even though they have done terrible things, they are human beings like us."

"Yeah, human beings who've spent their lives killing and raping mutants! The bleeding heart argument ain't workin' on me, Storm."

Angel was sitting a few seats down from Psylocke. He had debated with himself whether to attend this meeting. Despite everything, he still loved Betsy. He had been working sporadically with the Professor on his depression, and Warren had finally started to feel better with a new outlook lately. He knew that seeing Betsy again would hurt, and it did. The pain was so great now that he did not mind if he would appear a fool in front of the group. "Betsy," Warren began quietly, "I miss you. I love you dearly. Please come back to me. We'll work together. We'll help you get better."

"Sorry, Warren. Not interested," Betsy replied flatly.

Embarrassed though not surprised, Warren was silent for the remainder of the meeting.

The X-men and their two former members continued on in this vein for quite some time, neither side making any headway with the other. Finally, Psylocke said, "Look, you're wasting our time and we're wasting yours. What are you gonna do now? Keep us here? Throw us in the brig? Or let us go on our way?" She asked the question partly because she had sensed that the X-men were not all certain what they were going to do next.

"We will not keep you here against your will," the Professor said. He gave them the resolution that he and Storm had agreed to before the meeting. "But we will not allow you to attack that FOH vessel out there either. If you try to attack it, we will stop you."

"You stupid, son-of-a----" Marrow began.

Psylocke cut her off. "It's okay, Marrow. So they prevent us from attacking this FOH ship in this parsac. The FOH have a fleet of over three dozen and the X-men can't be everywhere all the time. We just go back into space and hunt down another one. They're all over the place." She turned to the Professor. "You couldn't stop us unless you had a fleet of your own. And I'm willing to wager that you don't really want to spend your lives policing us."

Soon afterwards, the meeting was concluded. Psylocke and Marrow were allowed to leave in their shuttle, and the Professor monitored them to ensure they did not attack the nearby FOH vessel. But he knew Psylocke's words were right. The X-men simply could not monitor Psylocke and Marrow all the time, everywhere. Soon they would even be out of telepathic range. The torturing and killing of more FOH soldiers would continue.

Once again,' Charles thought, I am compromising and failing.'

"Panda, I feel terribly guilty," Beast was saying.

The couple sat together in their quarters, eating dinner by candlelight. They had spread out a table cloth and their food onto the floor, and set two candles burning.

"Hank, please. You've been working 12 to 16 hours every day. You know you haven't been getting enough sleep. While you're taking care of the health of others, you also need to tend to yourself. Taking the time out to eat dinner is nothing to feel guilty over."

"My dear Jessica. Wise beyond her years."

Panda smiled. "Sheesh, you make it sound like I'm in high school or something! Our age gap doesn't bother me. Now come on and enjoy this dinner. This is the first meal you've not eaten standing in sick bay since we rescued the people, right?"

"No, this is the second such meal. I did ingest one lunch sitting down at a table three days ago."

"I stand corrected. Now let's enjoy this meal. And when we're done, if you want, I'll brush out your fur."

"I will gladly do the same for you, as well, my love." Hank reached for his drink and took a sip. He was really looking forward to receiving a thorough brushing. It would be so soothing. "This was a remarkable idea. I—I wish we had more time to spend together but I know you must understand that our work prevents that."

She reached for one of his hands and touched it. "I've missed you too, Hank."

They went on to talk. With Hank, there was never a need for "small talk." He told her about the guilt he felt at getting captured, and Colossus's death. "It could as easily have been I who was killed, instead of Peter," Hank mused. "They selected him at random, I believe."

Panda had her share of guilty feelings as well. She had been on the bridge during the fiasco. "Was it my newness, my ineptitude?" she wondered.

The two lovers consoled each other. Each reassured the other, helping to ease away the feelings of blame. This was the first time that they had made time to discuss this in depth and the unloading process was immensely relieving for both.

Panda then blurted out what she had been wanting to ask for weeks, and what was making her feel much more nervous than she looked. "How would you feel about getting married?"

Hank slowly lowered the glass back down. His eyes widened. "Oh my stars and garters," he murmured. "I would love to."

Panda smiled. She'd known in her heart that this would be his reply, but the illogical fear had risen up inside of her anyway. Now she felt that nervousness dissipate into delicious relief. The relief faded, though, when she realized that she was finished with only half of the difficult part. "You look surprised."

"I am. I---" Hank searched for words, faltering. "Why did I never think to ask this myself? I am perplexed. I should have asked for your hand in marriage long, long ago." he asked, as much to himself as to her. He truly was bewildered. Of course they should be married. He truly was puzzled as to why he had not thought of proposing.

Panda clarified it for him. "Oh, maybe because you spent the last several months working on cloaking devices, trying to find a cure for AIDS, and providing medical care to 120 people with some serious injuries. It's okay. I understand how busy you---we---are. But I want you to be my husband."

"I would be honored to be that, my love." Hank's head swam. "I cannot believe how my life has changed," he mused as he reached again for his drink. "It is so different—and so much better—than I used to dream it would ever be. I never considered that I might be married someday." Hank then went on to quote, "The joys of marriage are heaven on earth/ Life's paradise/The soul's quiet song of concord/ Early immortality.' John Ford, 1630."

"I'm pregnant," Panda blurted out.

Hank dropped the glass. "What??" he asked. His reply was uncharacteristic for him, but he now was astonished. The wine from the glass spilt onto the tablecloth and the floor. First a marriage proposal and now this! Unbelievable.

"I'm pregnant," she repeated, managing a smile.

"But….my stars and garters….how could this have occurred?" Hank breathed.

"The usual way," Panda quipped, attempting a half-smile. She then turned serious, matching his mood. "Hank, I'm sorry. The days we were held captive, obviously I couldn't take my pills. And when we got back on Freedom….I know I missed a few pills. Part of it was the chaos with having so many people on board to take care of. I know someone as….disciplined and accurate as you would never have forgotten. But I did. I really just forgot. I'm sorry."

As Hank accepted the shock, he saw that Panda clearly was chagrined, fearing she had let him down by her lapse. He moved quickly to reassure her. "Panda, I am not in the least bit upset with you. We all overlook things such as this, at times. Given what we have been through, it is completely understandable." He reached for and held her hands. "Besides, the fault is equally mine---I should have inquired as to whether you were still taking them. I assumed you-----well, what does it matter? No sense in assigning blame."

"But I do feel bad. I know if I were as brilliant as you, my love, I would not have forgotten."

"Panda, please. You are as brilliant as I. The pity is we have no university on An'zhina where you can receive even more education. Don't ever put yourself down."

"How do you feel about it though? Do you want to keep this baby? Are you upset?" He did not appear upset, but Panda still worried.

Hank could not answer for a moment, stumbling still on her first question. Then he said, "Truthfully, I do not know how I feel due to the fact that I feel nothing but shock now. What are your feelings in regards to this?"

"Well, I am happy," she said guardedly. "I wanted to become a parent. You know from what we've talked about that I wanted to have kids with you. This is quite a bit earlier than I would've liked, though." _Like_, she added silently, _five years earlier_. "But I'm okay with that. I really am."

"Then I, too, am happy. Let us marry and have this child. Panda, I am so happy that I do not think I even realize it!"

The pair then forgot about dinner and made love joyously for the remainder of the evening. Long gone was the awkwardness of their first few times. They now coupled together easily and effortlessly, each knowing the other's particular likes and pleasures.

Chapter 15

Chapter 17 


	17. Chapter 17

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 17

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 17

The inhabitants of Freedom were in need of good news and were very glad to hear of Beast and Panda's upcoming wedding and their impending arrival. They happily announced it to the group the following morning at breakfast. Not all X-men were eating the morning's meal with the group though. Hank and Panda later found Gambit and Rogue working with groups of camp survivors in the gym.

"Oh that's wonderful!" Rogue exclaimed, during the break when the newly-engaged couple delivered the news to the newlyweds. She gave a long hug first to Beast, and then Panda. Gambit also embraced both members of the pair.

"That's not all," Panda said. "I'm pregnant too!"

"Well, den, we have two t'ings to celebrate, no?" Gambit asked, smiling.

"I'm so happy for you both," Rogue said. "A weddin' and a baby! You lookin' forward to bein' parents?"

"This was a bit of a surprise," Panda admitted, sheepishly. She and Hank had decided to not make a secret of the fact that the pregnancy was unintended --- people would have figured it out sooner or later. But they were sure to let everyone know they were happy about it as well. "But we couldn't be happier."

"The lil' one can join Rory an Charlotte and Chris back on An'zhina," Gambit remarked.

"Yes," Hank said. Although pleased, his thoughts then began to drift. Given that Panda was pregnant, Hank certainly would not want her embarking upon any more rescue missions. Better that she stay safe on An'zhina, especially given what had happened during the last mission. Am I to join Cyclops, Jean and Jubilee as well, as a non combatant?' Hank wondered. How could he, when his skills were so needed on board Freedom? Besides, he had been recently promoted to Field Commander. He and Moira MacTaggert were the only doctors, and Moira had been firm that she was not setting foot off An'zhina. Siryn wanted her father to stay on An'zhina, and Moira was staying wherever Banshee would. But how could Hank leave Panda and, eventually, their child when he could be killed on a mission? It was merely by luck of the draw that FOH had killed Peter rather than Hank. Given how risky their missions were, Panda would not allow Hank to go embark on these missions when they had a child; Hank knew that now. But how could Freedom set out again with no doctor?

The reality of impending fatherhood was starting to sink in for Hank. My life will truly never be the same now.' All of the ramifications had not been clear to Hank the previous evening, as he and Panda had been immersed in happiness.

"Have you set a date?" Rogue was asking.

"We didn't pick anything concrete," Panda answered. "We need to give it some more thought." She turned and looked at Hank. "I guess sooner is better than later, though. I mean, it would be odd for me to walk down the aisle with my belly bulging more than it usually does," she said, patting her naturally rounded belly. She then stopped herself. "Not that I'm embarrassed about it though." She didn't like the hypocrisy either. Engaging in sex before marriage was no longer an aberration and they had nothing to be ashamed about. Panda's ears perked as she heard Rogue verbalize her very thoughts.

Rogue shrugged, "Heck it ain't like you're the only couple who jumped the gun on this stuff."

The two pairs chatted amicably for a while longer until break was over and the other mutants were eager to get on with what Gambit and Rogue were teaching them. Hank then turned to Panda. "We should inform Bobby." Hank's best friend had not been present during breakfast and was now scheduled for bridge duty. Panda nodded, and they then headed off for the bridge.

"Congratulations," Bobby was saying, moments later as he made a half-hearted attempt to appear merry. He knew he should try harder but couldn't bring himself to----not when he was so miserable himself. He awkwardly hugged first Hank and then Panda.

"I would also be most honored if you would serve as best man during the ceremony," Hank added.

"I'd love to. Thanks for asking," Bobby said, still failing at appearing happy for his friends. "I'm honored that you asked," he added, though it sounded strange and stiffly formal with his best friend.

"We shouldn't keep you much longer," Panda said, her eyes darting around the bridge.

"Yeah, I should be paying more attention to the monitors," Bobby said, turning towards his empty seat. Hank and Panda soon took their leave of him and headed back towards sick bay.

"Poor Bobby," Hank said. "He is still experiencing such distress over Northstar. I only wish there were some way to provide solace to him."

Panda sighed. "It's kind of a bummer that he can't even be happy for you, though. You're his best friend." She didn't attempt to disguise a hint of impatience in her voice. Hank knew that Bobby sometimes rubbed Panda the wrong way, and vice versa. Neither would ever be the other's favorite person.

Hank shrugged. "We must accept our friends the way they are. Bobby is a good person. However, when he becomes depressed as this, he is wrapped up in his own distress and cannot truly feel happy for anyone else. That is simply the way he is."

"Is it that he can't or won't? I mean, if your situations were reversed, you would not have hesitated to drop everything and share every bit of excitement with him. I mean, for goodness' sake, you don't get engaged or find out you're to be a parent every day!"

Hank reached for Panda's hand and held it. "I know. But as I said, I love and accept Bobby the way he is, including his failings. None of us are perfect human beings. He has a right to be depressed and I would not want a friend to be coerced into feigning something he does not feel either." Hank paused. "And my duty as a friend is to appear before him again and once more inquire as to whether he wishes to talk about it."

Panda shook her head. "Hank, you're a more patient person than I."

"I'm older. The years I have lived grant me patience."

Panda thought about it. "You'll be a good father," she said, voicing a conclusion she had already reached but one which Hank constantly reaffirmed.

One afternoon, Gambit and Rogue were taking a break in the rec room. They were joined by Hector Rendoza, Sam Guthrie and Dani Moonstar. All five had just come from a training session whereas the three "new recruits" were proving themselves good students. Gambit and Rogue were finding themselves surprised, too, at their own ability to teach and transmit fighting skills, helping the new ones to hone their instincts and harness their powers.

"I never knew I had this power," Hector was saying. He had learned through the training that his mutation allowed him to manipulate the visibility of objects he touched. When he touched another person, he temporarily transferred his powers to them; the other person's skin would temporarily become transparent as Hector's. It was a temporary effect, lasting only as long as he held on. Hector had not known of this because from the time his mutation had shown up to the time he came aboard Freedom, he had not had any skin-to-skin physical contact with another human being.

"Dat will be a good self-defense t'ing for you," Gambit said. "The effect is….disorienting." He spoke from experience; Hector had touched him during the training. Physically, it had felt uncomfortable and as if a burning sensation ran through him. Emotionally, too, it had been disturbing as Gambit had looked down at his arm and saw the muscles and bones, as if the skin were gone. He'd also seen Rogue's eyes widen with shock; Gambit could only imagine how his face looked. Fortunately, as soon as Wraith let go, Remy had returned to normal. Remy had seen Rogue exhale with relief then, too.

"We'll teach you how to control it, sugar," Rogue said. "It took me a while to learn how to control my own powers but we'll work with you to figure yours out. And hopefully it won't take you as long as it took me."

Gambit nodded. Probably the best Wraith could hope for would involve self-defense; his powers were not at the caliber of most of the X-men's. Now Cannonball and Moonstar, however….those were two powerful mutants. Gambit was glad they wanted to fight on the team. The X-men needed fighters to continue the struggle. Course, who knows what will happen when dey get to An'zhina,' Gambit wondered. Too many mutants had fallen in love with the white beaches and scenic hills of An'zhina, forgetting entirely about any intentions of training in earnest with the X-men and spending months on a drab starship. Happened to enough of the X-men too…' he speculated.

Almost as if she had read his thoughts, Moonstar asked, "Tell us what an average day on An'zhina is like. I can't wait to see this place."

"Well," Rogue said, "it's kinda like bein' on this ship but a whole lot prettier. There's a lot goin' on but nothin's mandatory. You can be a bump on a log if you wanna. And plenty of people are." She paused. "A lot of the camp survivors wanna continue with counseling, so there are groups they can go to or they can do one-on-one too. Jean Grey leads a lot of these groups and does a lot of counseling." They all knew Jean's name from having met her family. "An' we have a non-mutant doctor named Moira MacTaggert doin' a lot of these groups too. She's really cool and easy to talk to. She's been working with mutants a long time, and her husband Sean and daughter Siryn are mutants too." Rogue then corrected herself. "Step-daughter."

"Dere are a lot of other optional programs too," Gambit added. "Not like counseling but…." Gambit searched for the right words.

Rogue provided them for him, "Groups teaching self-esteem and that sorta thing. Scott Summers and Sean Cassidy lead a lot of those groups. You know, Cyclops and Banshee," Rogue said, providing them with the alias' they might've heard Scott and Sean referred to as.

"What sort of things do they do in those classes?" Sam asked.

"Well, you know how we all be taught to hate ourselves for bein' mutants," Gambit said. "Whether it's FOH or the media or the family or whoever dat teaches you to hate yourself, you gotta deal wit' it or it's gonna keep hauntin' you and keep pullin' you down. Dese groups work to reverse dat. Like, teachin' em to look at what beliefs dey have an' where dey got em from. Teachin' dem to do stuff dat dey can feel proud of an' learn to respect demselves." He turned to Rogue. "I heard ole' One-Eye doin' a real good job with dat stuff."

Rogue nodded and Gambit continued. "And anyone who wants to work on dere powers can do it wit' any of those four instructors. Dey train 'em."

"Jubilee's been doin' some of that stuff too," Rogue added. "Workin' with people on their powers. And counseling them if they want." She and Gambit exchanged a look. "I know, we forget that she's all grown up now."

"Is there a lot of free time too?" Sam asked. "I mean, even if you decide to train with the X-men?"

"Of course," Gambit answered. "Like here, you only gonna spend a few hours a day trainin'. Don't wanna get all burned out now. So dere's a lot to do in the free time. Dere are all dose gorgeous beaches."

"And the forest. It's lovely," Rogue added.

"An' de hills are beautiful to explore. We also got a rec room dat's about ten times as big as dis one, and we got a DJ Russ who plays good music. Dere's a woman named Agata who teaches dance lessons. Dere's a great gym too."

"What about work? I mean, other than training?" Dani asked, incredulously. This couldn't be the paradise everyone made it out to be. Could it?

"Dere's a lil' of dat. Bobby set up a community garden dat you can work on. You gotta clean your room too. If you want. But the building complex and everythin' is pretty self-cleanin'. We got replicators just like in here. Dere's just not a lot of work to do."

"Wow," Hector said.

"You can also keep training with us," Rogue said. "Be an X-man."

"You X-men look like….a good group," Moonstar said, searching for the right words. "Proud. Together. Like a family."

"Dat's what it is," Gambit said. "It wasn't always dis way but we got dere."

"You look like you love being X-men," Hector said. "I—I'm so honored to be part of this."

Cannonball and Moonstar voiced assent, and Cannonball continued. "You know, I sure appreciate everything y'all have done for us. I miss my family and friends like crazy. But bein' around all of you somehow makes it right tolerable. Makes the loneliness go away." Sam was speaking the truth. Spending months living in the Grey's attic hadn't been exactly paradise, but at least he'd been on earth and his family knew where he was. Once he'd boarded Freedom, it was hard. Living in space was a mind-blowing, shocking thing---especially to a young man raised to be a coal miner, one who had thought and hoped that he'd never leave Kentucky. Sam had spent a few nights just shaking in bed, too alienated to do much of anything. Once that letter had been beamed to his parents, informing him that he was safe, he felt slightly better. Each day grew easier, and the kindness and friendliness of the X-men had helped tremendously.

"Hey, Rogue and Gambit," Moonstar began, after a lull in the conversation, "who were those women who were brought on board the ship a couple days ago?"

Rogue and Gambit looked at each other. Keeping secrets on board Freedom just wasn't possible.

"I mean, not to pry or anything, but can't you tell us something about what happened?" Dani pressed. "I'm just curious."

"Their names are Marrow and Psylocke. They used to be X-men," Rogue said.

"Marrow and Psylocke?" Sam asked. "You mean the two ladies who rescued us from the FOH?" Hector nearly scoffed at Sam's using the designation "ladies" to describe those two. Hector would never forget the fierce look in Marrow's eyes.

"Yeah. We ran into them." Rogue turned to Moonstar and explained. "Both of them spent time at an FOH camp. They'd been training with us but decided to leave. They stole a shuttle and they now apparently spend their lives hunting down FOH ships and killing everyone on board. They helped rescue us from FOH though, just before we turned around and rescued you from the camp. But they didn't wanna re-join us. They wanna keep goin' on and hunting down FOH ships to hijack."

"Wow," Dani said.

"Now don't you go gettin' any ideas, girl!"

Dani smiled. "I'm a pacifist," she said truthfully. "I would never do something like that. I will only fight in self-defense."

Gambit shook his head. "Dough sometimes it be hard to get mad at the thought' of gettin' some revenge on the bastards." He and Rogue exchanged a look.

Jean Grey watched little Charlotte and Aurora frolic happily together as they made sandcastles on the beach. She was babysitting the two girls; Christopher was with his father, napping in a crib inside one of the classrooms as Scott and Jubilee led some training sessions this afternoon. "No, honey," Jean said to Rory as the girl lifted the red plastic shovel towards her lips. "Don't put that in your mouth."

Jean was subtly shielding her emotions from her daughter Charlotte. As Charlotte had the ability to sense other's feelings, Jean knew the 21 month-old did not need to experience the worry that pinched at Jean's psyche every now and then. Jean would teach her daughter to control her powers, but for the time being, it was better to block that emotion from hitting Charlotte. Jean couldn't explain how she did it; she just instinctively knew how.

Freedom was overdue. Not overdue by much but overdue. Approximately five days ago, they should have been within telepathic range. Jean should have been able to sense the Professor and vice versa. A day or two was an acceptable---and expected---delay. A delay of five days, however, was starting to look serious. Jean and Scott had a discussion earlier in the day, a discussion which left neither in a good mood.

"Could the Professor be sick? Or maybe he's too tired," Scott wondered.

"If that were the case, I would still be able to sense him. Or any of the others," Jean had said.

"Oh. Of course," Scott said, feeling foolish at his question. Jean patted his hand to reassure him.

"It could be anything," Jean said, though she knew those words sounded ridiculous as well. The fact remained that the X-men were in an exceptionally dangerous line of work. Sure, it could have been "anything" and "anything" generally meant trouble. "Maybe it's some minor engine problem," she added. "Maybe they are conserving dilithium and not warping at the usual speed."

"All we can do is wait and see," Scott said.

Jean nodded. She knew what he knew---there truly was nothing they could do. Taking the shuttle outside the mists surrounding Endaria would be risky and almost certainly futile. Jean found herself performing random scans, searching for her teammates, countless times per day. She tried to limit herself to one scan every ten minutes, knowing she was close to becoming obsessive about it.

A conversation took place at breakfast early one morning in the mess hall. Wolverine, Angel and Nightcrawler sat together as they ate, stocking up before the day's labor. Less than a third of the ship's inhabitants were up at this early hour; the dining room was much quieter than usual.

"I must ask you a question, Wolverine," Angel began, breaking the silence at their table at last. He had been meaning to ask this for days and days. He was now at a point where he no longer cared how ridiculous he might sound; he had to have an answer. "Are Psylocke and Marrow sleeping together? I know you can sense when two people have been together….because of the smell, and I know you were in the room with them during that-----"

"No," came Wolverine's curt reply.

"No? So they're not lovers?"

"Nope. Didn't smell it.".

Angel exhaled, feeling such relief. "Kurt, can you pass the butter?" he then asked abruptly. Nightcrawler passed him the butter, and Angel split open a bagel, remarking that the bagels had been good lately. He was eager to attempt to erase the awkwardness of his query and Logan's reply.

Angel then turned his head when the doors to the mess hall opened and Bobby Drake walked through. Iceman moped around, as he always did nowadays. Without hardly looking up, Bobby grabbed a bit of food and plopped down at an empty table on the other side of the large room. He'd felt hungry this morning though usually he had been forgoing breakfast.

Warren silently scoffed. Bobby's training had been the pits lately. Just like the old days when he was such a slacker. If one wanted a sure victory in the Danger Room, one only needed to play against the inept Bobby.

"Poor Bobby. I feel so bad for him," Kurt said quietly. The mess hall might not have been anywhere near full, but there was enough other conversion and Bobby sat far enough away that their words would not carry. "Northstar is having such trouble making a recovery and Bobby is really depressed over him."

Warren shrugged. "He needs to pull himself together and just get over it." Warren paused and added, "What does he expect? Those type of relationships never last."

"What do you mean?" Nightcrawler asked.

"Those gay relationships. They don't last, they're just about sex, and poor Bobby' just sets himself up for being miserable as long as he decides to...to pursue that."

"I think that's a little harsh, Warren," Nightcrawler said quietly.

Wolverine added, "Not sure all the generalizations you're makin' are true, bub. You and Psylocke broke up too."

"Yes, and we would not conclude that no heterosexual relationships ever last because of that, would we?" Nightcrawler remarked.

"Okay, okay, sheesh----sorry I brought this up," Warren said, defensively. The reference to the breakup with Psylocke didn't help his frame of mind. "Look guys, I've known Bobby longer than you have---it's gotta be 15 years now---and I remember him when he was a timid little 17 year old. He never was happy and I don't see how this homosexual stuff is helping him one bit. It just makes him miserable and I wish he'd cut it out."

"I am no expert on the subject of relationships, but from what I saw, he and Northstar had a good relationship before this," Nightcrawler said. "Jean-Paul is reacting as many victims of torture do, and Bobby is in the awkward position that the loved one of the tortured person is often in."

"You were there yourself, bub," Wolverine looked at Angel.

Angel clenched a fist. What a ridiculous comparison. "It wasn't the same thing," he said, his voice rising and his anger becoming more apparent. "Betsy and I had real love. Say whatever you want, but that homosexual crap isn't the same kind of love."

Just at that moment, several others approached their table including the Grey family, Professor X, Wraith, and about four other rescuees. They carried trays and were chatting away. The conversation Angel and the others had been taking part in was now over.

Storm had reached a decision. She thanked the Goddess for helping her resolve the situation in her mind. It is now time to swallow my pride and accept the loss,' she told herself. And try to move on.'

One evening, she and Wolverine made love in her quarters. Storm tried to memorize everything---the way he kissed her with his stubble brushing against her face, the feel of his calloused hands on her skin, his smell, the quiet groans that escaped from his mouth----everything. She willed her memory to imprint these rapturous details.

Afterwards, Wolverine shifted his weight on the bed. Storm knew, after so much time together, that he was getting ready to leave. She gently placed a hand on his arm. "Wait a moment, Logan," she implored, softly.

"What is it darlin'?" he asked, his voice tender.

For a split second, Storm questioned herself for choosing this moment, after sex, for the discussion. But she could not wait another minute and the two of them had so little time together as is. Besides, she had worked up her nerve for this and if she didn't bring it up now, she knew she would again fall prey to the desire for one last time with him, for putting off the inevitability of this ending. I must not be so weak, but in this one area, I am,' she knew.

"I wish to speak with you for a minute before you go," she said. Storm took a breath, feeling Wolverine's eyes on her. Her gaze was downwards, towards the white sheets she had bunched around her form. "Logan, I know you do not like to discuss such things, but I think we must." She paused briefly. "When we…began together, we agreed that should one of us want to be with another, we would be free to end this." She then turned to look at him and meet his eyes, and she gently asked him. "Don't you think I see the way you look at Sara? I am not blind. I do not wish to hold you back….I want you to be happy. So please…if this is what you want, go ahead and pursue Sara. I dearly hope she might bring you happiness."

Wolverine took a moment to absorb her words; he had not expected them. And then he was glad that Storm had given him leave to go. He had not wanted to bring it up himself'; he loved and respected her too much, having no wish to hurt her feelings. But Sara Grey made his heart throb and his head spin. He wanted her. "Ororo," he said, "thank you." He took her hand and held it. "And I want you to know that I enjoyed our time together. I respect you and care about you very much."

"And I, you, Logan. Very much so." Storm paused and then looked down, finding it hard to keep looking at his eyes. This might be the hardest part. "And I also will swallow my pride and say this. If, for some reason, things do not work out with Sara…I will welcome you back with open arms." She managed a smile, flinching at her own words. The Goddess of the Elements may as well get down on her knees and grovel….' she mused. She dislodged her hand from his.

"Thank you, darlin'. I might take you up on that offer." Though he hoped he would not have to and that Sara would respond to his advances. He still didn't know how Sara felt but was sure he could win her over. Wolverine then reached a hand to cup Storm's chin and pulled her towards him for one final kiss.

He then dressed himself and left Storm's room. As he walked down the hallway to his own quarters, he ruminated for a bit. Several times, he had thought that perhaps Storm had strong feelings for him, that she might have loved him as more than a teammate. She doesn't,' he told himself with finality. If she did, she would've fought for me. Maybe I was flatterin' myself to think that she ever wanted to be more than friends.'

Later, long after Wolverine had gone, Storm remained in her bed. Her body shook slightly but she allowed no tears to escape.

An exhausted Jean Grey flopped down onto the bed in her room. She had just finished a thorough cleaning of the walls, carpet and other substances inside the room. All the rooms in the main building were generally self-cleaning----except in the case of major messes, in which case human intervention was required. This was one of those such instances.

Jean had left Charlotte alone in the room for about 10 minutes as she ran a quick errand. Charlotte had happily been playing with her toys but the adventurous toddler soon got the idea to explore the room. She came upon the diaper pail and, fascinated, pulled out one of the diapers and dragged it all about the room. Jean had returned to find the room a mess. Charlotte had dragged soiled diapers all along the walls, carpet, bed, and dressers. So Jean worked diligently, wanting to have the room cleaned and aired out before Scott (who had Christopher with him) returned from the class he was teaching. During the cleaning, Charlotte stood by quietly, knowing she had done something that she was not supposed to do.

Jean had just finished the odious job of cleaning up after Charlotte when she performed a quick mental scan as she did habitually, numerous times per day. Charlotte startled as she felt her mother experience first shock and then massive waves of relief.

Charles! You're there!Jean mentally communicated to her Professor.

Yes, Jean. We're here. We're on our way back to An'zhina.

I was worried. You're several days later than we expected. Is everything alright?

I am afraid I have some very good news and same bad news too. I will give you the good news first.He told her this, knowing that she would indeed first want to hear the good. Your parents, sister, niece and nephew are all on board Freedom now, returning with us.

The jolt of pure happiness that Charlotte felt radiating from her mother was almost shocking to the child. She heard her mother literally squeal with joy. Charlotte then felt happiness rushing through her own system.

I can sense them! Oh my heavens!! Mom….Dad…..Sara….Gail and Joey! And…and they all seem to be alright.

They are. They're just fine and all looking forward to seeing you. Gail and Joe are mutants too.

That is wonderful!But just as Jean was on a high from that news, something the Professor had just said was only now registering and she had to know more. Professor, said also that you had bad news. I must know what it is.She also knew, from being in this sort of contact with his mind, that Charles was exhausted, mentally and physically, and even battling some guilt too.

We are late because we were captured by the Friends of Humanity. We all came close to losing our lives. Colossus is dead, killed by FOH.

Charlotte startled once again as her mother's mood plummeted. The child began to softly cry, more at frustration with all the feelings coursing through her rather than sorrow. Naturally as it came to her, she was only a toddler and could not control all these sensations. Jean noticed her daughter's distress. She picked up the baby and shared some gentle, reassuring emotions with her, tenderly stroking the child.

Oh no. Peter is dead. I can't believe it. Poor Elena must be devastated.

This has been a difficult mission. Everyone has been keeping an eye on Elena and working with her. I believe she will pull through. Fortunately, we had no other fatal casualties, and we successfully rescued 126 mutants. They are with us now and virtually all of them are looking forward to life on An'zhina.

Jean allowed those words to register now. There was much work to be done, then. She and Charles finished their brief update. Jean, then, could no longer wait to touch the minds of her family, connect with them briefly and tell them she loved them. She did so, knowing that they had always been ever-so-slightly off-put by her powers. The sensation of someone else speaking into your mind was a bit bizarre. This time, though, the Greys all seemed completely unphased by it. More than that, they were overjoyed to hear from Jean.

I will be counting down the hours until we see one another!Jean told them all.

Sara Grey was elated at the contact she and her sister had just had. Jean had just spoken in her mind, reassuring her that all would be well and they'd be together in a few days. Sara did her best to think her replies back to Jean and it had worked! They had communicated with each other...after all these years.

Sara and her parents almost had to force themselves not to jump up and down with glee. After having been apart for so long, not knowing whether Jean was alive or dead….now they were a few short days from being able to see each other! It was incredible. They would hug and sit down and catch up like the sisters that they were. Sara would get to meet and hold her new niece and nephew, and Jean would gush at how much Gail and Joe had grown.

Sara's head still spun at the events from the last several weeks. She could still hardly believe that she was aboard a starship, lightyears away from earth now. Her life up until a few short years ago had involved marriage, raising the two children, and working part-time as a dental hygienist. All of her possessions backs on earth were gone now as she headed for a world that she could still only dream about. Sara's mind was now blown at the difference.

Sara and Jean had been close sisters---fairly close, though ever since Jean's powers had manifested themselves, a gap had been instilled between the two of them. Jean was a mutant. Sara was not. Accordingly, their lives then took on divergent paths ---Sara going to college, getting married soon afterwards, parenting two children, and leading a life of relative normalcy. Jean, on the other hand, had gone off to the exotic-sounding Xavier Institute for the Gifted where she became part of a second family. Jean would bring home pictures of her friends, some of whom appeared very odd-looking. She brought Scott Summers home, a kind man who could never remove his visor. And the Greys had soon learned that Jean went off on fairly dangerous missions as well, something they struggled with. More than once, the other Greys had begged Jean to stop this X-men nonsense and come back home. Though their lives had taken quite divergent paths, Sara and Jean had always remained friends.

Because they were friends, they confided in each other. Sara poured out her frustrations with her marriage and her job woes. Jean shared less than Sara, though she did tell her of some of the things she struggled with. One of those "things" was aboard Freedom with Sara now.

Wolverine.

Jean had talked to Sara about the entire scenario, years ago -- the "love triangle" (ridiculous as it sounded) she had been in. She made it clear that she loved Scott and always would….though she also had an attraction to this man who her husband often quarreled with. This man who pursued her regularly.

Before she came aboard Freedom, Sara recalled having met Wolverine only once before. It was at Jean and Scott's second wedding ceremony. Wolverine had not made much of an impact on Sara as the dark, short man had been sullen, speaking to almost no one. A few weeks afterwards, Sara had visited the newlyweds and at one point privately asked Jean whether that Wolverine was the same one she had spoken about, the one who had wanted her. "Yes," Jean had said. "But my days of indecision are over. I know Scott is right for me and I will never betray him." She sighed. "I wish Wolverine would find someone for himself."

Sara's confusion grew with every passing day and week of their voyage to An'zhina now and she really found herself wishing for her sister's counsel. At first, Sara had thought Wolverine and Storm were "an item." She couldn't recall where exactly she got that idea from, but after her first day or two on board, she had asked someone about it----perhaps Sam or Hector. Whoever it had been said yes, that Storm and Wolverine were a couple. The times she had seen the two together, though, Sara hadn't really been sure as to whether they were truly a couple or not. But Sara saw the way Storm looked at Wolverine a few times and decided it must have been true; they really were together.

Something had changed, though, during their journey to An'zhina, Sara detected. She started to rarely see Wolverine and Storm together. And Wolverine's behavior towards Sara definitely had changed. It had been a long time since Sara had been wooed by anyone (she and Tom had married when Sara was only 22) and Sara kept disbelieving and discounting what she saw from Wolverine. I must be misreading what I'm seeing,' she continuously told herself. He's just being friendly. I have to ask Jean about this as soon as I get to this An'zhina.'

Whatever the case, a relationship was not first and foremost on her mind. Sara had her children to think about, getting them up to speed with and comfortable with their powers. Joe's training was going remarkably well and he had learned to harness his powers. Gail was growing more comfortable with her unusual looks; she was finally coming out of her shell.

On top of everything, there was something else going on for Sara. Something else to make sorting out her feelings all the more difficult.

Late one evening. Beast sat in the medical laboratory, hunched over a microscope. The mutants on board Freedom had untold diseases and infections, and Hank was attempting to learn all he could about them. He had enough work for a hospital full of doctors and a university full of researchers.

Hank startled when he felt two hands touch his shoulders, and he was unable to suppress a gasp. "Panda!" he exclaimed, whirling his head around and feeling surprise and then delight at the sight of his fiancee. His thoughts took a detour from his work momentarily. I cannot believe I am soon to be a husband and a father,' he mused as he gazed at Panda's loving face. Ten years ago---or even three or four years ago----he would never have dreamed that his life would take this path.

"Working late again, big guy?" Panda asked, smiling. Hank also knew her well enough to detect that there was something more behind that question.

"Yes," he replied, swiveling around on his chair to face her. Feeling guilty---as he knew perfectly well he had been neglecting her somewhat, though not to any greater degree than usual---- he went on to describe what he was working on and how it might be beneficial to the inhabitants of Freedom and An'zhina. Knowing Panda took an interest in his work, as she was nearly as brilliant as he, Hank spoke in great detail about his project.

"Uh-huh," Panda nodded, listening to Hank though, it appeared, not with the same intensity as usual. Most of the time she played an active role in his projects; they worked on several undertakings together and she was nearly as knowledgeable as he. Hank was somewhat perplexed as to why her interest seemed less than usual tonight. "When's the last time you took a break?" she asked. As Panda spoke, she caressed the back of Hank's neck and shoulders.

"I am not certain," Hank said. Panda's hand now reached towards his chest, swept over his fur and paused to fondle his nipples. "I—uh---think perhaps between four to, uh, four-and-one-half hours." Hank's voice quivered as his heart rate began to accelerate.

"That's a long time," Panda said. She bent her head down towards his face and deliberately bit an earlobe. She then tongued it.

"Oh my," Hank breathed. He liked what Panda had just done. "Well, perhaps this would be a wise time to take a moment's respite from my undertaking. Oftentimes our minds function better when we pause to relax. I know I, uh, sometimes become absorbed in my endeavors and subsequently fail, um, to ensure that I…oh my….oh my stars and garters!" Panda had adroitly unzipped his pants and was now kneeling in front of Hank, taking his member into her mouth.

"Panda," he gasped, "anyone could interrupt us at any time. We----"

"I know," she said, tilting her head up and smiling at him. "Makes this more fun, huh?" She bent her head back down and resumed her exciting task.

"Uh….well…" Hank's voice gave out; he was now at a loss for words. He leaned back into his seat and let Panda go to work on him. His last rational thought was the earnest hope that they would not be interrupted at this hour, though an intrusion was entirely possible. His cock was steadily becoming very rigid.

Panda loved what she was doing, liking both the taste and the feel of him moving in her mouth, as well as the idea that she was bringing him such enjoyment. She tongued his most sensitive spots. Then, she easily took as much of his length into her mouth as possible and moved her head up and down on it.

Hank felt the tension and stress drain out of him, replaced by the most pleasurable sensations. He reached a hand towards her head and gently stroked the fur on top. He wanted to tell her how much he liked this, and also wanted to offer to do something to reciprocate. Oftentimes Hank found words failing him during encounters such as this, but he felt thankful that he never had to worry about Panda not communicating her needs and desires. If she wanted something, she simply suggested it and Hank gladly went along. What he lacked in creativity and new ideas, she more than made up for.

However, after a while, Hank found his voice, "That's good," he whispered, gently nudging her face away. He was very close to orgasming and did not want it to happen too soon. Panda pulled back and looked up at him. After swiftly lifting her frock up and lowering her underclothes, she then scanned the laboratory. She hadn't expected to find any cushions, so she then simply lay on her back on the floor. Hank's eyes grew wide as Panda spread her legs invitingly.

For a split second, Hank considered creating a makeshift Do not disturb' sign and placing it on the door, but quickly decided against it. He didn't think he would be able to maintain his composure and couldn't tear himself away from the allure of his fiancee. His cock was so aching for relief now. He lowered himself to the ground from his chair and knelt before Panda, placing a kiss on her moist labia. However, he then felt Panda reach for his head and gradually lift it up. He knew from her gestures that she wanted him inside her right away.

Hank therefore slowly lowered his weight on top of Panda and then paused to rub his hardness against her throbbing clit. Panda moaned, and then reached for him to enter her. He did so, feeling how deliciously wet she was. Hank pumped away, Panda thrusting her hips up to meet his strokes.

Meanwhile, Professor Xavier had been heading towards the infirmary, escorting one of the rescued mutants who needed a refill on a mild medication he took for routine aches and pains. Fortunately, before they reached the door, Xavier took a quick mental scan. The Professor was then forced to swiftly concoct a reason why they needed to wait.

The trip back to An'zhina had been like a long, gray nightmare for me, one which I kept hoping I'd wake up from. I walked around on auto-pilot most of the time, though all my friends kept trying to console and help me. But Jean-Paul's mental condition deteriorated; he was never in a good mood and had no kind word for me. And then one day, perhaps a few days from An'zhina, something really bad between us happened.

I don't know what to call it. I wouldn't call it rape, because I kind of wanted it and I didn't try to put up a fight. (If I had fought back, I could have iced him. And he could have tried to overpower me—he is way faster and stronger too, though my ice-shooting ability probably could have incapacitated him if I could've moved quickly enough.) Part of me really wanted it, but at the same time, part of me didn't. Maybe I thought it would somehow magically make things better and that is why I didn't put up more of a struggle. Maybe I was just desperate to be touched by him –by anyone -- since he hadn't let me near him at all. Jean-Paul had barely touched me at all since our capture and his torture.

It happened one day as I brought some food to him. Usually Jean-Paul ignored me or yelled at me to get out of his room but I, undeterred, visited him at least once per day. Such a glutton for punishment and I always felt terrible after my daily trip to his room but I did it anyway. This time, he grabbed me, pressed his mouth against mine in such a rough way as he never had before, and then stepped back, ordering me to undress. So that started it. I stupidly did everything he said, letting him pin me to the bed.

Well, wait a minute—that's not totally true. I did break away for one rational moment and insist he put on a condom. Shockingly, he agreed to that. See, I really was complicit in this act. So I can't call it rape.

Jean-Paul usually was a tender and affectionate partner. This time he was rough, barely waiting until I was physically ready for him to enter, not kissing me as he usually did or murmuring any words of love in French. Practically the second after we were done, he barked at me to get out of his room.

But I still don't know what to call that encounter. I mean, I had an orgasm. So I obviously got something out of it too. I don't know.

I pulled on my clothes and returned to my room, feeling like the Bobby of 15 years ago, full of self-loathing and about two inches tall. So I mentally started down that dark path. I started spiraling down, listening to those old messages that told me I was worthless and better off dead. I started questioning why I went on with this pathetic life.

But then I stopped myself. I didn't want to wallow in self-pity or entertain the idea of trying to kill myself again. I just didn't want to go through it again, and I knew better. Everything I'd lived through had taught me better than that. I thought of all those who cared about me and decided to seek their help, instead of wrapping myself up in my misery and pretending I'm alone.

Hank made the time to listen and help me. Good old wise, compassionate, patient Hank. What a gem he is. I sometimes wondered why he was so kind to me, especially since I hadn't mustered much happiness for him when he and Panda told me of their engagement and pregnancy. He'd been such a golden and solid friend to me and I never quite reciprocated as much. I nearly told him that I didn't deserve such a good friend but I stopped that. And Hank---busy and tired as he was---made the time to hold me and talk to me, helping me pull myself out of the depression.

Hank left my room late into the night (actually, early the following morning) and I felt much better. I then resolved a few things. I didn't deserve to be treated the way Jean-Paul was treating me. I would cease going to his room and cease contact with him. I knew he was hurting but I (and lots of others, including the Professor) had entreated him to open up and let us try to help about a hundred times so far, to no avail. So I would then minimize or eliminate my contact with him.

I also resolved that perhaps after some time had passed, I would write him a letter and tell him how I felt, and I'd also offer to help and listen to him. But I wasn't going to do this right away and I certainly wasn't going to take any more shit from him.

Jean stood, watching the starship begin its landing procedures. It was late on An'zhina, the sky dark now, several hours past dinnertime. Outdoor lights had been installed in this area, illuminating the darkness.

Jean and Scott had long since put Christopher down to sleep for the night. It was well past Charlotte's bedtime as well, but the toddler couldn't sleep due to the excitement she felt from her parents, especially her mom. Jean knew that Charlotte wasn't sure exactly what was about to happen, but she knew it would be positive and exciting. So Jean and Scott allowed her to stay with them, and Scott held the girl in his arms as they watched Freedom land in the clearing not far from the main complex.

The inhabitants of Freedom slowly disembarked. Dozens and dozens of people rescued from the horrors of the FOH camp walked down the ramp, their eyes wide and mouths open. Banshee, Moira, Jubilee, and several of the mutants the X-men had rescued met and greeted the new citizens of An'zhina, offering to show them around, assign them quarters, and help them get adjusted. Days beforehand, Freedom had transmitted the names of the new rescuees to An'zhina, and everything had been made ready to receive them. A small reception would be held in the recreation room; Russ was set up to play music and sweet treats would be ready to go.

Jean kept scanning the crowd, waiting to catch a glimpse of her family as they descended the ramp. Her eyes seized on Joe first. Then in the space of an instant, she saw all of the rest, Gail right behind her brother, followed by Sara, Elaine and John. Jean ran up to them, Scott and Charlotte close behind. She reached her parents first.

John and Elaine Grey embraced their daughter, squeezing her close against them as they were so overjoyed. Cries of "I missed you so much!" and "I'd been so worried I'd never see you again!" could be heard. John let the hug go first so he could step back and look at Jean.

"Thank heaven you're safe," he murmured, still disbelieving he was standing before his elder daughter after so long. Elaine simply began crying, mostly because of the emotions that overwhelmed her but also thinking of what she now knew Jean had been through.

John and Elaine then wanted to see their new grandchildren just as Jean wanted to catch up with her sister and see how much her niece and nephew had grown. Scott stepped forward, Charlotte in his arms. He beamed with pride as he held the girl. The Greys hugged Scott first, and then held their granddaughter, marveling and cooing over her. Charlotte smiled happily up at them, delighting in the fact that these people were awed and overjoyed at seeing her.

Meanwhile, Jean hugged her sister, niece and nephew, telling them how good it was to see them again. Jean made it a point to tell Gail how beautiful she was, as she knew that people's reactions to the girl's mutant looks must have caused Gail much grief back on earth.

"Charlotte's a mutant too," Jean said, turning back towards her parents who were still gushing over Charlotte. "I don't yet know what all of her powers will be, but she does feel the emotions that others near her are feeling. You see how happy she looks right now. She feels what all of us are feeling." Jean paused and then added, "I know you're feeling a bit awed and overwhelmed at being on this strange, new world too. Charlotte feels some of that as well."

"That must be confusing for her," John said.

"Sometimes it is. Usually just if Scott or I hold her and tell her it'll be alright, then she'll be fine. It will take her some time to learn how to control her powers."  
  
"Isn't she young for her powers to develop so quickly?" John asked.

"Yes. It might be because both her parents are mutants; we don't know."

"Can we see our youngest grandchild?" Elaine asked.

"He's asleep," Scott said. "But come on, we'll show him to you. He just turned 6 months old."

The family made their way to the main complex, Jean and Scott pointing out various things as they walked---which outdoor trails led where, the direction of the beach and of the forest. Once inside, they pointed out the direction of the dining hall, the rec room, the corridors which led to other people's rooms. Sara observed it all, her mind reeling from all of this.

The Greys spent several hours together, late into the night. Charlotte had been put down to sleep for the night, but the others remained talking in the room that had been assigned to John and Elaine.

"How do you feel to be here?" Jean asked her family. "I know it must feel shocking and alienating to be so far from earth."

"It will take some getting used to," Elaine admitted.

John shook his head. "I had a revelation during the trip here. The money and the house and all those things back we left back on earth don't matter so much. I used to think they were so important, and I worked hard for all those years to save for our retirement. Now it doesn't matter."

"What's important is that we're all here together," Sara finished for him.

"And all of our material needs are taken care of here on An'zhina," Scott added. "We all left money and possessions behind on earth but you won't need any of them here. You can basically replicate whatever you need---within reason."

John nodded. "I understand. I don't miss any of the money we left behind. I miss a few things, though. Like photo albums."

"And the letters we exchanged before we were married," Elaine said, turning to John and smiling. "And the jewels my mother and grandmother left me. I miss them because they meant something to me, not for their financial value."

"Yes," John said. "I miss the sentimental things. But," he said, taking Elaine's hand, "as our wise daughter said, the most important thing is that we're all safe and sound together."

After a while, most of the group were finding themselves unable to keep their eyes open, so they each drifted off to their own rooms. Sara and Jean, however, wanted to continue talking and catching up. They walked together to Sara's new room, which was across the hall from the rooms of Gail and Joe.

"Goodnight," Jean said, hugging her niece and nephew after their mother had.

"Night Aunt Jean," Gail and Joe both called.

Jean then opened the door to Sara's new room. "It will take me a while to get used to calling him Joe, and not Joey,'" Jean admitted, as they entered the room.

"I still stumble on it all the time," Sara said. "What happened to the little baby who used to be in my arms?? He's now 11! And Gail is 13. The time goes by quickly, Jean. You'd better cherish your little ones while you have them." Sara looked around the room, opening the door to the bathroom and peaking in, opening up dresser drawers and looking in the closet, touching nearly each surface. "Looks just like Mom and Dad's room. Beautiful. I love the coloring----it's light and airy. Much better than those rooms on Freedom with their metallic walls."

"Yes. The rooms here in this building are more or less identical," Jean said. "Some of them have slight variations but they're basically the same and the square footage is the same too."

"You and Scott must get crowded with Charlotte and Christopher in your room."

"We are starting to outgrow it. We have his crib next to our bed and Charlotte's bed is in the alcove, but soon enough, both of them will need their own space. As good a kid as Charlotte is, Scott and I are starting to wish for our own room. We're wondering if we could maybe have the room next to ours made into an adjoining room. It's Colossus's room now and I'm sure he'll…." Jean stopped herself. "My God. How could I have forgotten? I still can't believe that Peter's dead."

Sara put a hand on her sister's shoulder. "I'm sorry that he's gone. I never knew him but I could tell he touched a lot of people."

Jean squeezed her eyes together as if willing herself to hold back any tears. "He was a wonderful man. So kind and gentle. Always wanting to do the right thing. And a powerful fighter too." Jean swallowed the lump in her throat. She reminded herself to check in with Elena the next day and see if the woman needed anyone to talk to. "I feel so sad, and at the same time, so angry that they took him away from us like this."

"I know! I feel that way too," Sara said. "I'm madder than hell when I think about it! What gives those so-called Friends of Humanity the right to pull people out of their homes and round them up into camps! Or to kill someone like your friend. Or to---" Sara then stopped herself. At first, she did not want to bring up another subject that had to be painful to Jean. However, at the same time, she didn't want to pretend that nothing had happened and ignore it. Knowing Jean, she knew her sister wouldn't want that either. "Storm told me what FOH did to you while you were their prisoners," she blurted out.

Jean took a breath. "That's okay. We're not ashamed about it. I'm not. We survived it."

"Well, I wanted to say that if you need anyone to talk to or anything, I'm here for you." The words sounded stiffly formal to Sara, as their interactions the past several years sometimes had been. Saying the words themselves felt awkward, too, but Sara felt that was preferable to leaving it unsaid.

"Thank you, Sara. I prefer to try to keep it behind me. It's hard, though. I'm sure you've also been told that's what FOH does to about all of their female prisoners. So you will see and hear people talking about this subject all the time, and most of the women on An'zhina are in counseling, trying to deal with what was done to them. The subject of rape has become dinnertime conversation here since it's so familiar to all of us. It's impacted each and every one of us, including the men here just because of how they must deal with the women."

Sara shook her head. "How can those FOH people do that? What the hell is wrong with them?? I mean, don't they have wives or sisters of their own??" Sara's fists were clenched. "I just thank heavens my children and I are safe now."

"Me too," Jean said, her voice sounding a bit distant. Better the memories behind me,' she said. No sense dwelling on it.'

"Let's talk of happier things. Jean, I need your advice on something."

"Anytime, little sis."

"Tell me…what do you know of this….Wolverine guy? He is—I mean, isn't he the guy who used to like you? As in, like you a lot?" Sara knew she sounded somewhat ridiculous, as if she and Jean were teenagers again, but she had to bring this up and didn't want to wait until the next day.

Jean smiled. "Yes, he's the one. There was a time when he liked me a lot and he wanted me to leave Scott. But I'm glad I never betrayed Scott and I think the attraction has really lessened---on both of our sides. Once Scott and I married, Wolverine pretty much stopped trying to win me over."

Sara nodded. She then let a second or two elapse and said, "I think he wants me."

Jean had to restrain a gasp. "Really? Why do you say that?"

Sara then went on to describe her interactions with Wolverine during the past several days. The brief conversations they'd had, the look Logan got on his face, the pitch his voice assumed when they spoke. Although it had been a long time since she'd been courted, Sara recognized the little gestures he did, tacitly asking for permission to get closer and spend more time together. Perhaps it was because subtlety was not Logan's strong point that his intentions were becoming more clear, though Sara still continued to question it.

Jean listened, fascinated. "I—I just am a bit surprised," she said. "I thought that he and Storm were----"

"So did I! But something has changed, Jean. I don't think they're together anymore."

Jean and her sister continued to talk well into the early hours of the morning. Jean resolved to see Storm as soon as possible.

After the newest citizens of An'zhina had been shown to their quarters, given tours, and had any and all questions answered, most of them went to bed. However, many of them congregated in the rec room, despite the late hour. Music was playing and desserts passed around. Colorful streamers and balloons had been hung in the rec room to welcome the new mutants.

"Look at that one guy. Yuuuuck!"

Todd was sitting next to his friend Hou Sang on one of the deep and cushiony sofas inside the rec room. He quietly nudged Hou Sang as he spoke and subtly pointed out Hector Rendoza.

"Oh my," Hou Sang said quietly. As always, Hector was as covered up as possible, complete with a hooded sweatshirt. But that face….with the ghoulish eyes allowing you to see their very sockets….

"Man, he's ugly," Todd said. "I gotta thank God my mutation didn't do that to me." Todd shook his head. "I can't even keep looking at him---makes me wanna lose my lunch. There's one guy who'll never get laid."

Hou Sang smirked and laughed, though neither he nor Todd had had any luck with the ladies on An'zhina either.

Chapter 16

Chapter 18 


	18. Chapter 18

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 18

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 18

The X-men wasted little time in getting back down to business. The day after their return to An'zhina, all X-men held a meeting several hours prior to dinner. Beforehand, the Professor had asked Storm and Cyclops to basically run the meeting; he had said he would contribute little. Cyclops had looked confused, but Storm merely touched his shoulder and told him that Charles was very tired.

The meeting began with a brief update from Cyclops on the status of An'zhina. "I have very little to report," he said. "Nothing much has changed. We are seeing a lot of progress from the mutants here, both in terms of mastering their powers and recovering from the ordeals they underwent at the camps."

Banshee nodded. "Though now I see that we will have 126 new people to attend to."

Rogue grimly told him, "And it won't be easy. A lot of em are in pretty bad shape, emotionally. We did our best to help them durin' the trip back here. But it seems FOH is gettin' worse, treating them a lot worse."

"I do not know if that is truly the case or only our perception of the truth," Storm said. "I think the mutants we rescued from the first two camps have suffered comparably."

"I dunno Storm. I've heard some horror stories. An' I'd thought I'd reached a point where nothing could surprise me again….but some of what these new ones tell me shocked me right good again."

Moira spoke. "We will take good care of them here. Thank you for everything you've done to get them on the path towards rehabilitation."

"Any news from Marina?" Wolverine asked. "She askin' anything more from us?" He asked the question, feeling extremely rankled though he couldn't quite say why.

"No," Cyclops said. "She has not contacted us since….before you left." Scott answered the question, leaving one piece out. Marina had contacted both Scott and Jean one evening, asking again that Scott grace her bed sometime. She offered or demanded nothing in return but said that she just had to make her request again. A disgusted Scott declined again.

"We havena had any contact from her other advisors either," Banshee added. "Except for one quick message. They've given vidcams to anyone who wants them." Upon seeing the quizzical looks, Banshee went on to explain, "A vidcam is like a television. It only shows a wee selection of Endarian films though and does not have programming at all hours."

"Some of the films they show are actually quite good," Moira added. "Though I've never seen more than five different films offered, and one children's-type movie."

"You can also set it to play music," Jubilee piped up. She loved the vidcams. "Kinda like a radio or a music station but with music only. We were told to give them to anyone who wanted one, and there are sign-up sheets in the rec room."

Jean listened to the discussions, stifling a yawn. She had been up far too late the night before, much later than she was used to. And as much as she wanted to catch up with the other X-men now, she really wanted to get back to her family. The Greys had spent all of the day up until this point together. They had so many lost years to cover. And John and Elaine could barely keep their hands off their younger granddaughter and grandson, and were gladly babysitting them---as well as Jubilee's daughter too --- during the meeting.

Jean took a glance in the direction of Storm. Earlier in the day, Jean had broken away from her family for a bit in an attempt to talk to Storm, but the Wind Rider had politely brushed her off. Jean had to respect her privacy and desire for solitude.

"So can you tell us what we missed?" Jubilee was asking. She'd heard a few informal versions from some of the X-men but wanted to know more.

"I will start with the good news," Storm said. "As you know, we successfully rescued 126 people from an FOH camp in Canada. Three of the people we rescued have already begun training as X-men." Storm went on to tell the group a little about Cannonball, Wraith and Moonstar. The trio were not present at this meeting. "I will, however, ensure that those of you who haven't met them get a chance to soon. I think all three show great potential."

"I just hope they don't fall in love with An'zhina and decide to forget about the difficult life of an X-man," Angel added.

"What about the ones already livin' here?" Wolverine asked. "Any of em talking about wanting to be an X-man?"

Cyclops and Banshee looked at each other. "No," Cyclops said. "We train them on how to use their powers and some basic self-defense, for those who don't have strong powers. But no one has said anything about wanting to join the X-men."

"Do you ever talk to em about it?"  
  
"Yes," Cyclops replied, trying to keep irritation and defensiveness out of his voice. How could Wolverine think that they didn't do such things? "We do bring it up, without trying to sound like we're recruiting. We talk about what it means to be an X-man and all the things we've done over the years. We offer to work closely with anyone who wants to join the team." Scott silently added a thought that Wolverine probably just wanted to use this as a chance to bash the self-esteem building work they did with the mutants. It's such important work; they need confidence in order to live their lives and get beyond the self-loathing they've been taught. Leave it to Wolverine to think everything needs to be taught through fighting.' Scott shook his head. Teaching the rescuees self-esteem had actually done wonders for his own.

"They simply havena been very interested, Logan," Banshee added.

Wolverine once again found himself biting his tongue—not something that came naturally to him at all. Hard to believe that out of all three of the camps they'd liberated and the 320-plus mutants who had been brought here, there had been no more than a grand total of five new recruits. And one of them, Marrow, had deserted the group so she could zoom around the galaxy, reenacting what was done to her. As of yet, only Panda had really proven herself an X-man. As Storm continued the meeting, Wolverine felt his anger rising. None of them wanted to help their fellow mutant. Not to mention that the couple hundred mutants who lived here, in the lap of luxury watching their "vidcams", were a drop in the bucket compared to the thousands who were being tortured continuously in FOH camps on earth. How the hell were the X-men going to rescue all the thousands who needed it?

Storm saw both Cyclops's and Wolverine's bubbling anger out of the corner of her eyes. Do they have to start fighting again already? For the Goddesses' sake, Wolverine just got back here yesterday. I'm so tired of them playing who's-is-bigger.' Storm resolved to continue the meeting, on the positive track it had been on. She went on to tell the team that she had more good news to share. "As most of you know already, Hank and Panda are engaged to be married."

Jean startled when she heard Storm say the words. Because she had scarcely spent a waking hour away from her family, she had not known of the engagement. She had barely said "hi" to Hank or any of those who had been on the mission! Scott had found out earlier in the morning and meant to tell her, but it had slipped his mind. Jean resolved to properly congratulate Hank and Panda, and to be sure to "check in" with the other X-men as well.

"We are also expectant parents," Hank said. He was smiling and beaming. Jean looked at him, thinking that he had never looked quite so happy in his life.

"That's wonderful!" Jubilee exclaimed. Like many in the room, it had never occurred to her that the pregnancy was unintended. She never thought Hank or Panda would miscue like that. "More playmates for Rory, Charlotte, and Chris!" As she said the words, Jubilee missed her daughter and looked forward to the meeting ending so she could retrieve Rory from the Greys.

"Congratulations," Scott said. "When will the wedding be?"

"We are not yet certain," Hank said. "It will depend on how long we X-men are to remain here on An'zhina."

Storm smiled and then went on, "Also, the mission had more successes. Jean Grey's family was rescued from FOH and are here with us now."

Jean smiled from ear to ear. She then said, "I apologize if I've not been as attentive to all of you since you returned last night. My family and I have a lot to catch up on. In some ways I never thought I'd see my parents, my sister, my niece and nephew again, but here they are." Sitting next to Jean, Scott also beamed, feeling Jean's joy as his own.

Storm returned her smile. "We certainly understand."

Wolverine listened to the small talk taking place and continued to get impatient. Why the heck was Storm going through all the good things that happened, like she was some media spin doctor or Mary Poppins?? And why the hell was everyone sitting around and smiling, as if Colossus hadn't died, as if the X-men hadn't nearly all gotten killed?? Feeling restless and fenced in inside the tidy conference room, Wolverine simply got up and walked out.

Cyclops watched him leave, his happiness turning to incredulity. What the hell was wrong with Logan that he couldn't be happy for Jean---who he'd professed to love---being reunited with her family? Or for Hank---who was supposed to be one of his closest friends---getting engaged and on his way to fatherhood? If I live to be an old man, I'll never understand him,' Scott sighed to himself.

Jubilee got up from her seat and went after Logan. She exited the conference room and headed down the hallway, seeing Wolverine's retreating form at the other end. "Wait up, Wolvie!" she called. She jogged a bit to catch up to her old mentor.

Wolverine slowed down his pace, allowing Jubilee to catch up. He had no desire to talk to her or anyone. But he also didn't want to hurt her feelings…and she was one of the few people who he didn't feel inexplicably angry at. "Darlin', don't ask me to talk 'cause I don't wanna," he said, when Jubilee had reached his side.

"Okay," she said simply. "Let's do something else then! You wanna play basketball---even though you'll kick my butt? Or what about a karate lesson?"

Wolverine took a breath and rested a hand on her shoulder. Given that Jubilee knew he was so pissed off, she marveled at the gentleness and warmth she felt from that hand. "Look, I ain't in the mood for company right now. Even yours, darlin.' I wanna be alone. But some other time, okay? I wanna catch up with you an' Rory. Jus' not now."

Jubilee nodded. This was about as good a reply as one could hope for from Logan when he was in such a mood. She simply planted a quick kiss on his cheek, turned back towards the meeting and called out, "See ya later then."

As Jubilee reentered the meeting, Storm was talking about Colossus. Her voice remained steady and calm. Jubilee took her seat and heard the words, still disbelieving. Jean had told her over a week ago, ever since her telepathic hook-up with the Professor, that Peter was gone. It hadn't yet sunk in for Jubilee. "We need to start making preparations for his funeral," Storm was saying. "I have spoken with Elena. She says that she wants to take the lead on this. She asks that anyone who wishes to speak at the funeral contact her. I asked her when she'd like us to have the funeral and she's been very vague. But she seemed okay with my suggestion that we have the funeral in a couple of weeks."

"Does she need any help?" Jean asked, incredulous that Elena might want to do this alone.

"She says that she does not. However….it might not hurt to ask her again."

"Can you tell us about your mission?" Jean asked. "Do we know exactly what went wrong? And how did you get free?" She looked around the room. "I apologize if most of you know this already. I heard a bit from my family last night but it was sort of sketchy. I would like to hear all about your capture and escape."

As Jean looked at her teammates, her eyes met the Professor's. For a second, their minds touched and she felt his weariness. It was a bit of a jolt from the unbridled euphoria she'd been feeling from the reunion with her family. Jean then resolved to speak with the Professor. What a lot of sadness in this room,' she mused, sensing and feeling it in her bones.

Storm went on to relay what had happened. She spoke at length, giving quite a bit of detail though she conspicuously left out the fact that FOH had raped her. Storm spoke of the run-ins the X-men had with Marrow and Psylocke, both when the X-men were rescued by them as well as a few weeks later on the route back to An'zhina. She answered many questions from the others, and the X-men spent the better part of an hour discussing this and attempting to determine what had gone wrong so that it could be prevented next time.

"I think," Shaman said, "that we should have another healing ceremony. Whether we do it in conjunction with Colossus's funeral or not, we have been traumatized and we need to come together and heal as a group."

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Jean said. "The last healing ceremony you led for us years ago was very effective."

Rogue nodded. "Your healin' ceremony was….really special, Shaman. You had a magic way of bringin' us all together after the worst thing we ever went through."

"I will be glad to do it again," Shaman said. "For all of our sakes, we need to heal together."

Moira looked around the room. "Speaking of healing and your capture and all….where is Northstar?"

She asked the question because Bobby was sitting on her left--- a very morose and gloomy Bobby who had not said one word during the meeting and in fact often looked down at the table in front of him, staring. At that moment, Moira was not the only one who turned and took a look at Bobby, with his unkempt hair and dark circles under his eyes.

"My brother wants to be by himself," Jeanne-Marie said. "He is having a hard time with things. FOH….attacked him while we were prisoners. They left him in bad shape and we're lucky he's alive." Concerned as she was for her brother, Jeanne-Marie had to bite her tongue. And doesn't anyone care about me?' she wondered. 'I lost my son. FOH demanded I turn him over. They're probably raising him in one of their youth groups right now. Meanwhile look at Jean Grey sitting over there, with her handsome husband, two beautiful children, and now she's reunited with the rest of her family. My whole family is dead except for my brother and he's in such bad shape….my husband was killed and my son taken from me. I am so alone.' She felt a pressing desire to get out of that room, though she stayed. The sorrow and misery weighed down on her.

There was silence for a moment or two. Shaman spoke, "All the more reason why a healing ceremony is needed and would be beneficial."

"Is there anything else we need to discuss at this meeting?" Cyclops asked.

"I have a question," Moira said. "From what you said, Storm, we now have a former FOH soldier here with us." She paused. "What are we to do with him?"

Storm glanced at her timepiece. "May I make a suggestion? I see that this meeting has gone on for quite some time and we seem to be getting restless." Storm looked at Cyclops. "And discussion of this topic could go on for quite a while. Let's reconvene tomorrow or the next day. We have other things to discuss as well, including the timing of our next mission to earth." Cyclops nodded, and the meeting was adjourned.

Later that day, I felt better than I had in a long time. Jubilee and I went back to her room and drowned our sorrows in ice cream sundaes and booze.

Jubes left Aurora in the care of Gambit and Rogue, who were eager to spend some catch-up time with the kid. Jubilee and I made decadent sundaes, replete with whipped cream, hot fudge, caramel and cherries atop vanilla ice cream and moist chocolate brownies. I covertly replicated a variety of alcoholic beverages. Sitting on her bed, we got drunk together, Jubilee occasionally pouring her kahlua directly onto her ice cream. I drank my poison of choice straight out of the bottle. As we talked, ate and drank, we had one of the vidcams on in the background but neither of us watched it. I told her everything---how I hadn't had any contact with Jean-Paul for days now, our last being that sexual encounter which lacked most of the affection I was used to from him. Jubilee kept asking me to elaborate and I spared no detail. She then poured out her story of being dumped by this Lisman jerk for the bodacious blond Siryn (who actually looked like a red-head to me.)

"So….did you two do it?" I was drunk enough that I didn't think twice about asking the question, though I probably would've asked if sober too.

"Not exactly," she said, slurring half her words. "We didn't go all the way----but I was getting to where I was almost ready to. We'd do stuff like touch each other over our clothes and rub each other. I'd come just from that. I took off my shirt and let him play with my tits a few times. I hear that he and Siryn have progressed to all-out fucking now, though." She was giving me quite a few details but I had told her even more specifics of my own encounters before, even at times when I was not drunk.

The next morning I woke up wearing only my pants, shoes and socks as I lay in Jubilee's bed with a fierce hangover and pounding headache. A fully clothed Jubilee lay next to me. I could only imagine what Rogue and Gambit thought when they'd dropped Rory off the evening before. I honestly couldn't remember either.

The following day, late in the afternoon after Jubilee's hangover had worn off, she found herself with Wolverine. He had wanted to visit her and Rory.

Rory was having a field day with the return of one of her favorite Uncles, and she was greeting him in her own unique way. As Wolverine sat on a chair in Jubilee's room, Aurora went through the chest where each of her toys was kept. The very animated youngster would pick up a toy, present it to Logan by throwing it down at his feet, and then return to her toy chest and repeat the process with another plaything. All the while, she made joyful gibberish noises, her way of communicating.

"Careful with that one, honey," Jubilee said. "Uncle Logan made that one for you and you don't want to break it." Jubilee then turned to Wolverine and shrugged. "I really missed you too, but I wouldn't have thought of using her method to say hello."

Wolverine smiled at Jubilee's comment, and after a while, Aurora found herself getting tired and out of toys to throw. She curled in Wolverine's arms.

"So who's this Lisman bastard?"

"Wolvie, I'm trying to not swear in front of her, remember??" Jubilee asked, gesturing towards Rory and feigning exasperation---though she still smiled. She couldn't help but to smile in Logan's presence.

"Sorry," he said. "But tell me what happened."

Jubilee shook her head. "Well, I'm again amazed at how fast gossip travels here." She then sobered up, seeing that Wolverine wasn't laughing. She went on to tell Logan the story, leaving out—of course—the more detailed information about her and Lisman's former love life which she had relayed to Bobby the evening prior.

"I should go kick his ass," Wolverine muttered. Jubilee glared at him, and Wolverine quickly amended his statement, "I mean kick his butt."

"But you wouldn't, of course," Jubilee said, wondering why she was rushing to defend Lisman. Part of her greatly liked the idea of her ex-boyfriend getting his just desserts much as she knew violence was wrong. "Lisman and Siryn are like this," she said, entwining two of her fingers. "Banshee would never forgive you if you roughed him up. At the rate he seems to be going with Siryn, Lisman might be Banshee's son-in-law someday." Jubilee shrugged. "It's okay. I'll get over him. Stuff happens." The attitude she displayed that afternoon was markedly different than the one she had displayed to Bobby the evening before.

"He wasn't good enough for you, darlin'."

Jubilee smiled and shook her head. "You probably don't even remember who Lisman is! I bet you'd say that about anyone."

"Maybe so. Maybe so," he repeated with some uncharacteristic softness. He suddenly sounded very far away.

"So, now it's my turn to ask for an update….Wolvie, what's this about you and Storm? And Jean's sister?"

Wolverine just grumbled, "We got nothin' else to do but gossip like a bunch o' old ladies." Jubilee hadn't expected him to share any information---and certainly none of his feelings---with her, and he didn't. They continued on talking about other things, and then Wolverine gave her a refresher lesson in karate. He found himself impressed –though not surprised--- that she'd diligently kept her skills up.

Rogue and Gambit were laying on a blanket deep inside one of the woody areas. The trees were a myriad of brilliant colors this time of year---yellows, reds, organges, greens, and several shades not generally seen on any trees on earth---such as lilac and cobalt blue.

"Dis so beautiful. I wish I could take a picture of all dis in my mind and never forget it," Gambit said.

"We're so spoiled livin' here. All we have to do is wait a few months and the trees will turn this color again." Rogue paused, and then said, "Hey, Remy. I feel happier than I ever been in my life and I feel guilty bout it."

Gambit nodded. He knew exactly how she felt and he was going through much of it himself.

"I mean, I'm married to you," Rogue went on. "When I first met you, I think I feel in love right away but I never thought it could be. Now we're together. And I'm finally goin' through what happened to me in my childhood, finally comin' to terms with it. We live in this beautiful place and we're with the rest of our family, helping to free other mutants. But….." she let her voice trail off.

"But, it be hard to feel so happy when everyone around us so miserable," Gambit finished for her.

"That's just it! We got Colossus dead, Storm is miserable an' she ain't talkin' to anyone bout it. Basically same with Bobby now too. He's down and depressed. So's poor Jubilee over that guy who dumped her. And the Professor looks like he needs 'bout a year's vacation."

Though laying down with one arm tucked beneath his neck, Gambit managed to shake his head. "Wonder what dat Canuck be t'inkin.' I dunno dat Jean's sister feel the same way Wolverine does----or t'ink he does."

"Thinkin' bout it just pisses me off. If Wolverine would let himself, he'd love Storm. What the hell is wrong with him??"

There was silence for a few moments. Gambit then said. "I feel bad for Bobby too. Don't look like Northstar's gettin' any better. I never see him."

"I wonder what they did to him. I mean, he needed surgery afterwards? They must've…." Rogue let her voice trail off, deciding that she didn't really want to go down that route. "I don't know what it's gonna take for him to pull himself together." She paused. "I really do feel bad for Bobby too. Though sometimes I wonder if he and Northstar were such a good match."

"You don't t'ink so?" Gambit asked, quizzically. "Gambit t'ink dey good together. Bobby more quiet and gentle. Jean-Paul bit more…forward, more take-charge. I hope he get it back together again." He paused, and then said, "Oh well. Enough of dis sorta talk," Gambit sighed, bringing one hand to rest against Rogue's cheek. "Is true our friends be sad but we do what we can to comfort dem. In the meantime, we not be denying ourselves happiness, no?" He moved his hand to her thigh and started to stroke gently as he leaned over and began kissing and nuzzling the side of her face and neck. He loved the softness of her face. He brought another hand around to caress her fluffy hair.

"Not here, sugar," Rogue said, smiling both with love and with excitement at what was to follow. Making love with Gambit was always so exquisite. "There are people not far from here. Wanna fly up to one of the hills? I bet we get more privacy there."

Soon, the two rose from their blanket, and Rogue scooped Remy up into her arms. Off they flew.

One morning I was tending to the vegetable garden, growing increasingly more irritated. The An'zhinans had done a pitiful job maintaining it in my absence and I was pissed. I felt like backhanding the idiots who'd been neglecting it after they'd promised to take care of it. I guess it's just easier to let the food replicators do everything instead of getting outside and actually exerting yourself. I was startled out of my silent rant when I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked up to see Jeanne-Marie.

"Hi, Bobby," she said, sitting down next to me.

"Hi," I muttered. Being sought out by the elusive Jeanne-Marie was a rare occurrence. I wondered what she wanted.

We sat together in silence for a long time. I continued plucking weeds and she didn't offer to help; she just sat, quietly observing me. Finally, she said something. "I'll never see my son again. If I do, it might be in battle----I might be an old woman and he an FOH soldier."

"I'm sorry, Jeanne-Marie," I muttered. What the hell did she expect me to say? I'd expressed my condolences to her enough times. And I had my own problems. Besides, I had to wonder what the hell she and her husband did so wrong to raise such a little brat.

"There is much sadness and anger in this world."

"Uh-huh." I was tempted to make a sarcastic remark like, You've noticed?' but I held my tongue.

"Does Jean-Paul ever tell you much about his past?"

I paused in my weeding and sat back on my heels. It took me a few seconds to answer, and then I said, "You'd better make that past-tense, since he doesn't talk to me at all anymore."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jeanne-Marie tilt her head back. "My brother has gone through some changes in his life. He is so different than the man who joined Alpha Flight." She paused and then really began to talk. "I would say, up until a few years before we were captured by FOH, everyone hated him. My brother was an arrogant and rude loner. I used to say that if rudeness were an art form, Jean-Paul would be a maestro. I knew why he was like that, though. He didn't want anyone close to him, didn't want to go through losing anyone else since losing our parents and later, losing Raymonde." As Jean-Paul himself had once told me, Raymonde was the Uncle-like figure who had also been his gay role model. "I was the only person he allowed near," Jeanne-Marie continued. "He risked his life to save me on more than one occasion and I do owe him my life. He didn't even think twice about it.

"But," Jeanne-Marie continued, "Jean-Paul hit a realization one day. It happened a few weeks before he and I were to turn 30. We were planning how we wanted to celebrate, and Jean-Paul realized that while I had plenty of friends—as well as a husband and a baby----he had almost no one from his side to invite. Half of our Alpha Flight teammates he had quarreled with, the other half he had just never bothered to get to know. He'd never had a real romantic relationship either. His latest relationship had just ended after only two months----and by his standards, that was a long-term one. He'd never opened himself up to anyone else. He never let himself love or care for anyone aside from me. So Jean-Paul made a vow to change at that time. He stopped being a jerk and started being more kind to our teammates, even making friends. The incident with Joanne happened soon afterwards too, which helped him grow." Joanne was the baby he had adopted. "Not long after Joanne passed away, he met Phillippe and really fell in love for the first time. That was his first real relationship. It was a bit shocking to me; I was used to being the only person he was close to. But he changed, and he really changed for the better.

"You know the rest," she went on. "A few years later FOH rose to power, we were captured and tortured, and most of our surrogate brothers and sisters in Alpha Flight were killed. So, you see, Jean-Paul and I…..our personalities changed once more. As you know, we went back to earth and he found that Phillippe had been killed by FOH…..my Fredrick was killed too." I heard Jeanne-Marie's voice crack and strain at the mention of her deceased husband. "I thought Jean-Paul might go back to his old ways, but he didn't. Somehow he knew closing himself off wouldn't be the right thing to do. Then he met you, Bobby. It had been a long time since I saw my brother so happy. He loves you, Bobby. I think after this last bout with FOH…..for some reason, he's gone back to shutting everyone out, back to being an extreme version of his old self. He thinks that love brings pain, and that life brings pain, and that if he lets himself love you, that he's going to somehow lose you again."

She stopped talking then. I thought her ending was a bit abrupt after she'd said so much----but she apparently had no more to say.

I appreciated the history on Jean-Paul. He had told me bits and pieces at times but I'd never heard it all put together quite like that before. I knew that he'd had a reputation for arrogance---Wolverine had said as much----but I discounted it because the man I knew and loved wasn't like that. "Life does bring pain," I said.

"Yes."

"Sometimes you wonder if it's all worth it. I know people can change though." Somehow I found myself opening up to Jeanne-Marie, maybe because she had allowed me this glimpse of her own view of her brother, the man we both loved. "When I turned 30, I went through a big life change too. I rejoined the X-men after seven years away. It was the best thing I ever did."

She nodded and was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Bobby, I think Jean-Paul can get out of the slump he's in. I don't really know just how. But I think he can do it and I don't doubt at all that he loves you."

I turned away from her and tore up some more weeds from my garden. "If he is to change, he's gotta be the one to do it. All I see is that he sits in his room all day, moping around. And I don't dare go back to him, not after what happened last time."

"Think about it, Bobby. Think of a way." I had to wonder why in the heck she was asking me to do that. She was the one who knew him all his life. She knew him a lot better than I did and had a way better chance of getting through to him. Jeanne-Marie then got to her feet. She stood, and then bent to place a hand on my shoulder. "Don't give up on him."

Wolverine tried to not get discouraged. During dinner, he had spotted Sara in the dining room with her children. Gail and Joe ran off somewhere after dessert, and Wolverine made his way over to Sara. He talked to her for a bit, and then asked if she wanted to accompany him on a walk. "I know most of the paths here," he had said, the usual gruffness in his voice tempered. "They're really beautiful. You want me to show you around?"

Sara had smiled, and tilted her head to the side. "Thanks for the invitation, Logan. But I have other plans. I appreciate it though."

Wolverine had watched her leave the dining room, thinking maybe he was being too aggressive. Sara had her sister to catch up with----surely that was who her other plans were with. No doubt Sara had an untold number of matters to attend to, such as assisting her children with their training, spending time with Jean and the rest of her family, exploring and adjusting to An'zhina. Logan strongly felt that he did not want to push her.

But still, he ruminated as he walked towards one of the paths alone. Sara had not yet given him any encouraging signals. Not one. Wolverine sighed. She just needs some time. She's goin' through a lot of major changes right now. I gotta slow down and give her some time. She'll come round.'

Two days after the X-men's first meeting, the group met again. They had two major topics to discuss: when to return to earth and what to do with the former FOH soldier residing on An'zhina.

"Is the Professor not coming to this meeting?" Kurt asked Storm, whom he was sitting next to.

"No," Storm said, addressing the group. "I spoke with the Professor beforehand. He asked us to go on and make decisions for ourselves. I will review them with him but he is willing to support whatever we decide."

Scott listened to Storm's words, feeling a surge of jealousy. The Professor had not sought him out before the meeting. Why Storm and not Cyclops?

He then felt Jean pat his hand. It's okayJean telepathically told' him. Remember we spent all morning at the beach with the rest of the family.Once again, John and Elaine Grey were providing babysitting services for their younger grandchildren and Jubilee's daughter. Maybe Storm was just more accessible this morning. You know Charles loves you and trusts your leadership as much as Storm. And she is so busy with that group she counsels that she didn't have time to get with you before this meeting, I'm sure.

"You're right, Jean," Scott said quietly, and then startled again, realizing he had spoken the words instead of thinking them. He glanced at Jean and they smiled at his error.

Storm looked at the group, oblivious to Cyclops and Jean's exchange. "So, what are people's thoughts about the timing for our next rescue mission to earth?"

"I would suggest that we should consider re-evaluating our strategy," Beast said. He had discussed his idea with several of the others before and they were expecting this comments. "Although I am pleased that we succeeded in rescuing 126 people on our last mission, we must realize that this low figure is the proverbial drop in the bucket. I think it is imperative that we come up with some ideas for more large-scale change."

"I agree," Wolverine said. "They got thousands of mutants in these camps. A couple hundred people ain't much to show for all the trips back and forth we made."

"We need to think of ways to make a greater impact," Rogue said, agreeing.

Storm opened her mouth to speak, but Cyclops got his comment in before she did. "I agree. So let's brainstorm. What sort of ideas do we have on ways we can really turn things around on earth?"

"We talked bout this before," Wolverine said. "An' I ain't heard anyone come up with a better idea. We need the Professor to change some of those bastards' minds."

"Didn't you say you—I mean, he---did that on the last mission?" Jubilee asked. "That before you got too far away, he did use his powers to try and get in their heads?"

"Yes," Storm answered. "At this point, we do not have an idea of whether or not it worked." Storm then looked at Jean.

"It's hard to say what the exact results of doing something like this will be," Jean added, contributing her expertise on telepathy and mind control. "Maybe one FOH higher-up's mind has been changed but he might not change his actions. Or what the Professor did might have affected another one, who decides to quit FOH rather than do anything or change anything. It's just hard to say."

"But isn't it still possible that enough of them might see things differently now?" Jubilee asked.

"It's possible, Jubilee," Jean said. "But hatred of mutants is so widespread on earth that it might take a lot to see any real change. Still, though, I like that plan."

"As do I," Beast said. "I think it is the best course of action we have yet come up with for enacting

any long-term change on earth."

"Ain't no one come up with anything better," Rogue added.

"Anyone got any other ideas?" Wolverine asked, feeling restless.

No one did. The X-men had spent months---years even----discussing several other strategies among themselves but they'd yet to find one that looked feasible.

Angel looked around. "So then, isn't the question now----when does the Professor want to go on another mission? Because if we're going ahead with this plan, then we need him. He's absolutely critical."

"Are dere any other telepaths among all the mutants we rescued so far?" Gambit asked, looking in the direction of those X-men who resided permanently on An'zhina.

"No," Jean replied. "I kept hoping we'd come across another telepath or even someone with telekinesis. Unfortunately, it looks like Charles and I are it."

"Then you're right, Angel," Storm said, looking at him. She noticed that Warren seemed very happy lately but she had not had a spare moment to find out why. She performed group healing ceremonies and pseudo-therapy sessions with a batch of 35 camp survivors, all of whom were despairing at the thought of Storm leaving them. She continued on, "The timing of our next mission to earth is contingent on the Professor since we can't do it without him. If we're to make any large-scale change on earth, we need a telepath. I don't think we'll win Psylocke back to us anytime soon, even if we could find her. She, the Professor, and Jean are our only telepaths."

Jean looked at her hands, folded in front of her on the table. Jean was an exceedingly powerful telepath in her own right—nearly as powerful as Professor X---, and they all knew that. But I just can't leave Charlotte or Chris. And I can't risk bringing them with…Especially not given what happened on the last mission. Surely the others understand that. If any of them had children, they'd feel the same way. Banshee hasn't left An'zhina since he arrived here because he wants to be with his daughter and she doesn't want him to go.' Either through the mindlink or because he knew her so well, Scott sensed what she was thinking. He reached for one of her thighs under the table and patted it reassuringly.

"Next time I see the Professor, I will ask him when he would like to return to earth," Storm concluded. "Keeping in mind that he does need time to recoup," she added.

"I was shocked at how tired he looked," Jubilee said, though her voice was not so loud and not everyone heard her. Banshee, sitting next to her, murmured, "I agree, lass."

"Too bad we can't win dat Emma Frost over to our side," Gambit said. "She seem almost as powerful as the Professor."

Storm nodded. "She does seem really entrenched with FOH, at least from what Mark told us. But I wonder if maybe Charles can dialog with her and try to convince her that our cause is better."

"From what we know of the Hellfire Club," Cyclops began, "I doubt Emma's much interested in which cause' to support. It sounds like she likes the riches and luxury she lives in with FOH and that's that----I think her only 'cause' is herself.."

"Still, we can ask the Professor to try," Storm said, keeping her voice even.

Cyclops then changed the subject back to Mark. "Speaking of Mark----or, we were a second ago….let's pick up the discussion about what to do with our former Friends of Humanity soldier."

"I've touched his mind," Jean said. "I completely agree with the Professor's assessment of him. He possess no threat or danger to us." Although Jean's words were absolutely true, when she touched his mind, she felt something else too. Mark was hiding something. She knew that what he hid was of no great import and that Mark remained harmless. Jean had then stopped herself from probing deeper---it was none of her business and as great a temptation as it may have been to learn more, she would have been committing a violation had she gone further.

"Shouldna we return him to earth?" Banshee said. "After all, I dona know if An'zhina is the place for him."  
  
"What do you mean?" Storm asked.

"I see An'zhina as a refuge for mutants. And for those who care about them and will work to help them," he said, looking at his wife. "But as I understand it, Mark doesna necessarily fit in either category and the lad landed here accidentally."

"He helped us to escape," Nightcrawler said. "He supports our cause."

"An' he can't go back to earth," Gambit said. "The other FOH all saw him helpin' us. Dey'll kill him if dey get deir hands on him."

As Rogue heard her husband speak those words, she couldn't help but to turn her head in his direction and fight back some of the feelings swirling around her. Remy and I have gone through this before,' she thought. No use gettin' my knickers in a twist bout it again. I gotta deal with it. We agree on this----he's just more merciful towards the bastard than I am.' She tried to get a handle on her emotions.

"He really has nowhere else to go," Nightcrawler said, nodding at Gambit's comment. "I see no harm in allowing him to stay because, as the Professor and Jean have said, he poses no threat to us."

Hank then added, "And our constitution clearly prohibits discrimination based on whether or not one is a mutant. The circumstances that brought him here are irrelevant, and he is now as much a target of the Friends of Humanity as we are. He needs a refuge."

Cyclops looked around the room. "Can we all then agree that Mark can stay here, assuming he wants to?"

"He does," Angel added. "I spoke with him about it just yesterday."

No one voiced any objections to Mark residing on An'zhina.

"I don't have a problem with him stayin' here," Rogue said. "But I am wonderin' bout when he's gonna get what's comin' to him for what he did when he was an FOH soldier." All eyes turned to Rogue now. "I spoke with the little bastard and asked him if he'd raped any mutants at the camp he was at. The piece of hogslop looks me in the eye and said that he did."

Moira looked at Rogue, surprised --- perhaps even a little shocked --- by the younger woman's revelation. She had met with and spoken to Mark numerous times. Somehow….somehow it just seemed that a nice, normal, good-natured person like Mark would never do such a thing. Moira shut her eyes and sighed quietly. Ah, the banality of evil,' Charles would say. FOH had to be full of "nice and normal" men. Evil happens when good men and women fail to do the right thing. When will any of them get the courage to stop what they're doing?' Moira wondered despondently.

Rogue continued, "I got a problem with him walkin' around free while we spend half our days dealin' with the people that he and his former buddies roughed up. We seen the effects of what they did. Hell, most every woman in this room has lived through it herself! So we just gonna let him get off scott-free?" She hadn't intended for it to happen, but her voice had risen in pitch and intensity.

"I agree wit' Rogue," Gambit said. "I don't know what be right way to do it but somehow Mark gotta realize what he did an' he gotta pay the piper. We don't do anyt'ing and it be like what he did was no big deal, you know? We can't let him say somet'in' like he was jus' going along wit' the crowd because that still don't excuse it."

Several looks were exchanged and people started to whisper to others. Cyclops then spoke, quieting the chatter that had begun, "Personally, I agree with you. He should realize what he did was extremely serious and….and a horrible thing. I think he should face retribution but I don't know what an appropriate punishment would be."

"Neither do I," Storm admitted. "I do not think we should construct a jail cell and put him inside it. Even though I would not hesitate to suggest that for any other rapist back on earth."

"I dona think that's such a bad idea, actually," Banshee said. He clenched his fist and fought to keep his voice temperate. "Why not? When I think of what those FOH lowlifes did to my daughter and how she is still hurting today, sitting in a jail cell is a wee price to pay."

"Does sitting in a jail cell make him realize he did something wrong though?" Storm asked. "I would like for him to understand what he did and how it affected his victims."

"Perhaps he should do some work with the camp survivors here," Jean suggested. "I don't know exactly what type of work, but somehow interact with them----in a way that would be emotionally safe and non-threatening to the survivors, of course. But at least he could see what he put people through, see the impact of his actions. Not that I don't think Mark regrets what he did----he does regret it. I know that from the time I probed his mind. But I agree with what's been said, that he needs to not just regret it but to really needs to understand it. Some sort of retribution is justified."

"I think havin' him do somethin' with the survivors is a good idea," Wolverine said, "but I also like the idea of him facing some plain old punishment too. He did a crime and he needs to pay. Fair and simple."

The X-men discussed and debated the issue for a while longer. Finally they decided that Mark would perform manual and clean-up tasks around An'zhina. Most such work was handled by automation now, but Mark would be required to perform some of it himself. Additionally, Jean would come up with a way for Mark to interact with and possibly assist camp survivors so he could reach an understanding of what they had suffered through. Rogue was satisfied with the outcome.

It was awkward, being a regular human being on An'zhina, bereft of any mutant status. Mark knew he was one of a handful of the non-mutants there, but what made it even worse was the fact that he was a former soldier in the Friends of Humanity.

Maybe it's karma, coming back to me,' Mark mused one day, if there even is such a thing. I joined an organization that tormented mutants, and now I live somewhere where I get a chance to be the outcast.'

Of course no one was openly hostile towards Mark. Not since the incident on board Freedom with Rogue had Mark ever been given cause to fear for his safety. But word traveled fast on An'zhina and soon everyone knew Mark was a former FOH soldier.

Friends were few and far between, not that he'd had any real ones on earth anymore either. That kindly Scottish woman, Moira, was always gentle and one of the few who made time to converse with him. (Despite the fact, as Mark had found out, that FOH had killed her son, imprisoned and raped her step-daughter, and had shipped her husband out to the far reaches of space to perform slave labor. Moira's amiable countenance in the face of all this was remarkable.) The elderly Greys were friendly enough too. But in general, Hector Rendoza was the only one Mark could term a "friend." It was ironic. Hector, just by virtue of his physical appearance, would have been one of FOH's most obvious targets on earth. But now Hector was the only one to befriend a former FOH soldier.

Of course, Hector was a bit of an outcast too. On An'zhina, you saw all sorts of mutants. Most were attractive---in either a conventional or unconventional way. There were many who had unusual appearances but still were not bad looking. However, none were as revolting in appearance as Hector.

Mark shook his head. He would've thought that Wraith's fellow mutants would take pity on him and befriend him, but that didn't appear to the be the case either. Wraith trained with the X-men and, as he told Mark, they were all pleasant and nice enough but Hector hadn't really felt like any of them wanted to strike up a friendship either. Each seemed wrapped up in either their own happiness or own depression.

Mark usually ate his meals by himself or with Hector. Eating with the mutant could be a trying experience. Given Wraith's see-through skin, one could see a hazy outline of the food as he chewed it. The contractions of his muscles as the morsels slid down his esophagus could be observed as well. As much as Wraith covered himself up, his neck was usually exposed ---and obviously his mouth had to be uncovered as he ate. Mark would have to look down at his plate during much of the meal, and a few times he fought back retching. Hector, of course, knew and understood what was going on and even had apologized more than once, making Mark feel even worse about it all.

On this particular day however, Hector was going to be late due to a training session and Mark would be eating alone as he so often did. As Mark bit into his sandwich, he heard a voice ask, "Would you like some company?"

Mark looked up and saw Jean Grey stranding before him, holding her daughter in her arms. "Of course," he said, in wonderment at the woman's beauty. That Scott is a lucky guy,' he mused. It freaked him out when he fleetingly remembered that only weeks ago, he had seized this woman's family and been taking them to an FOH camp. She's got reason enough to hate me. They all do.' Yet Jean was polite towards Mark as always. Mark marveled at the forgiveness he had been granted.

Jean then sat with him, intermittently conversing with Mark as she fed Charlotte and ate her own lunch. Jean kept the tone of the dialogue light---she had such a way of disarming someone, such a pleasantness about her. After a while, Mark ascertained that she was subtly gaining information on how Mark enjoyed An'zhina, how he spent his days, what he thought of the other inhabitants, and so on. She eventually got to the heart of the matter---letting Mark know what the X-men had discussed at their last meeting. Only Jean could've made the discussion unthreatening.

"I understand," Mark said, when Jean was finished. "I know what I did was very wrong and I welcome the chance to so something—no matter how small." He spoke the truth about his feelings. I just need to hope that the Professor never tells them that my own brother was one of the soldiers who kidnapped and tortured them….'

I was finding myself enjoying my garden even more than usual and spending a lot of time there. I loved it all—being outdoors, working with nature and watching things grow. My past resentment towards the others for not maintaining the garden to my standards had melted away----the garden was just fine. The weather was getting a bit cooler on An'zhina now but it really never snowed there either. We'd never had a frost. I was trying to understand the cycles this magical moon went through but it almost seemed as though robust, succulent vegetables could grow year round.

On this particular day, I was using my powers to water the garden. I no longer needed to completely change into my iced-over form. One of my hands was iced over and I shot water out of my fingertips. I even had the ability to control the temperature and not shock the plants with freezing water. My gifts never seemed the least bit odd to me and I knew I even took them for granted a bit.

After finishing with watering the plants, I sat down to take a rest, crossing my legs in front of me. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples…..and then startled and gasped when I felt someone crawl into my lap!

"Sorry about that, Bobby," Cyclops said. His daughter Charlotte had waddled over to me and was now sitting in my lap.

"Hey, no need to apologize," I said. "She just surprised me. I think-----"

"Bobby sad," Charlotte said. "He feel sad. Help him." I raised my eyebrows at her declaration, even though it was true. Everyone knew by now that Jean and Scott's daughter had powers of empathy. Not that it exactly took a genius to figure out that I wasn't happy though.

Cyclops knelt down next to his daughter. He spoke to her in such a gentle tone that I was momentarily stunned. Neither of my parents had ever used such a tone with me and I was reminded that Scott was more than the stringent leader. And I had such a craving to hear someone address me with tenderness too.

"Charlotte, honey, you remember what Mommy and I spoke about with you?" he said to the girl. "You have wonderful gifts. Most other people cannot tell how others are feeling inside. But sometimes, some people might not like it if you say out loud what they are feeling. Feelings are private."

I shrugged. "It's okay with me. It's no big secret anyway. I am sad."

Scott looked uncomfortable---whether due to people having the nerve to actually talk about how they felt or the cause of my sadness itself, I didn't know. "So, uh, how is Northstar?" he asked.

Well, I give him points for asking. Actually, I'm not being fair to Scott at all. Soon after we'd returned to An'zhina, he made a point to ask about Jean-Paul's state then too, busy as he was with Jean's family having returned. Sometimes I think I can never make up my mind about Scott but that day I was willing to entertain the idea that he did always strive to do the right thing even if it made him uneasy.

I answered something like, "The same," when some members of Scott's family came looking for him. Jean Grey walked up to us, with the baby Christopher inside a carrier that she wore. Jean's parents and niece were there too and they greeted us.

"You want to join us, Bobby?" Jean asked. "We're going to take a walk in the forest. The trees are so beautiful now we want to look at them as much as we can."

"Thanks, Jean," I replied, "but I really need to take care of this garden."

"You do such wonders with it. Have the others been taking good care of it while you were gone? I wished I could've tended to it more, but with the two babies….."

"I understand. Yeah, the garden looks great," I lied. The others could've been doing a way better job with it but whatever.

"Come on, sweetie," Scott said, gesturing for Charlotte to get up from my lap and join them.

Charlotte turned her head and looked at me before getting up. It was really uncanny that one so young could show so much caring and concern in her face. She really was worried about me. I was amazed.

So the others set out for their walk and I got back to gardening. I reached for a hoe and picked out some more weeds and pebbles from the soil. After some time had passed, I had another visitor. I felt a strong gust of wind and looked up to find that Jeanne-Marie Beaubier had flown in, quick as a wink. She landed next to me.

"Hi, Bobby," she said, her voice with a lighter, somewhat more friendly air than usual.

"Hi Jeanne-Marie," I said. "How are you?"

"Okay. And you?"

"Alright. How's ---er, how are things?" I stopped myself just in time. I'd been about to ask her how Stephan was. Ridiculous to ask that, I know, but my mind had been on autopilot and I temporarily forgot that FOH took her son from her. Sometimes working in the garden put me in a near-trance state, which I loved. The mental relaxation was great though sometimes I forgot important stuff like that.

"Things might be better if you'd go talk to Jean-Paul," she said. "He'd like to see you."

"Really?" I asked. My heart rate wasn't jumping out of my chest and I wasn't going to take off then and go run to see him that instant, as I might've before. Instead I sat down on my mat and began work on planting a few seedlings.

"Yes. Both today and yesterday he has been asking for you. He wishes you'd come to see him."

"He can tell me that himself," I said, trying to keep my voice as flat as possible. "He has a communicator. Or he can just get up and knock on my door." Truly, I missed him and loved him the same as always. Thinking about him pained me. But I was really hurt—especially by our last encounter---and I sure wasn't about to go running back like a whipped dog. At the same time, I couldn't deny the twinge of excitement and hope at hearing the news that he wanted to see me.

Jeanne-Marie seemed to hesitate before answering and several seconds passed. She then said, "He is not good at this sort of thing. You know from what we spoke about before. It is hard for him to admit that he's been wrong or done something wrong." She knelt down beside me and placed a hand on my shoulder. I turned my face towards hers and really looked at her. For a second. it was breathtaking. She and Jean-Paul had basically the same features----hers more feminine and soft of course, but the eyes were virtually the same. Both had led difficult lives and I swear I saw it all, looking at Jeanne-Marie. Looking into her beautiful eyes was like gazing at her brother's too----especially given that I saw respect in those eyes, I saw caring, a bit of warmth, and maybe a hint of love. "Please, Bobby. Go to see him. He is sorry for what he did." I knew, of course, what she was referring to; she and her brother shared everything just as Jubilee and I usually did. "There is no excuse for it but he is really hurting and really down. He needs you. He needs you to share some strength with him and to accept that he is not perfect."

Her words were getting me to thaw a bit and I started to wonder whether I was being selfish again. Yeah, Jean-Paul had been treating me pretty poorly but FOH put him through hell. How might I have reacted if I'd been through the same? I had been losing my patience with Jean-Paul but that wasn't really fair. I had tried to support him before but perhaps he hadn't been ready for it then.

"Okay," I said, sighing. "I'll go to him."

Jeanne-Marie then rose to her feet. "Now?" she asked.

"No," I said, looking down at my garden. "I want to finish planting this row here. Then I'll go."

She bent down and laid a hand on my back. "Thank you, Bobby," she said softly. She then flew off in a flash, ascending into the sky and disappearing as quickly as she had arrived. Watching her go, I envied again those who could fly and thought of how I missed the times Northstar would carry me as we zoomed around the sky.

After that, I took my time to get to Jean-Paul. When I had finished with the garden, I returned to my room and washed my hands and face. I brushed my teeth. I then combed my hair, briefly noting that very few mutant men----with the notable exception of Professor X----ever seemed to lose their hair as they aged. I didn't even see anyone with a receding hairline. I saw Hank and Panda all the time and always meant to ask one of them for their scientific opinions on this matter. I also looked at myself and thought that I never seemed to age much; I had to be nearly 33 by then but I looked the same as I had when I was 25. Same was true of the guys who were a few years older than I, like Cyke and Angel. And Jean-Paul.

I exited my room and then walked over to Jean-Paul's, which was next door. I heard some noise and saw a few people walking down the hall, which made me hesitate for a bit. But I found myself knocking on the door, though somewhat softly. Quite a bit of time seemed to pass as I kept straining to either hear a response or hear the door opening. Nothing. "Jean-Paul?" I called out, though I knew the rooms were largely sound-proof. More people walked down the hall and I felt stupid standing there like that, but I reminded myself not to worry what they might be thinking----who knew if they even noticed me there or not? I waited a bit and then knocked again, louder.

No response. I felt certain that he was in the room, though. You rarely saw him anywhere else. Since arriving on An'zhina, I'd never seen him in the dining hall for a meal and my reconnaissance team (consisting solely of Jubilee and Rory) had never seen him eat with the group either. I then made the decision to just open the door and step in.

I pressed the code to slide the doors aside and peaked my head in. "Jean-Paul?" I called out. The room was dark, and I was hit with a gust of chilly air as the window was wide open.

"Here," he called. He was in his usual spot, laying on the bed.

"Want some company?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"Yes," he said. His voice sounded throaty and tired.

"Aren't you getting cold in here?" I asked, taking a few steps inside. Cold weather never bothered me---I loved it, in fact----but I noticed Jean-Paul was bundled under layers of blankets.

"No," he said. "Would you come sit here?"

So I went over to the bed and sat down next to him. All my anger and resentment towards him vanished. He looked haggard and depressed. "Oh, my sweetheart," I said, touching a hand to his head. "What are you doing cooped up in here?"

He reached for my hand and kissed it. He didn't answer my question and I prompted him gently, "Hmmmm? Don't you ever want to take a walk? Or work-out in the gym again?" He used to love exercise too.

Jean-Paul simply remained holding my hand. After a while, he just said, "I don't know."

"When's the last time you saw Hank? Have you had a medical exam lately?"

"Yes," he said. "Hank was in here just the other day."

"What does he say about your condition?"

"He says I need to go see Xavier."

"You should, my love," I said, still holding onto his hand. I was speaking more slowly than you'd usually talk to someone. "You need someone who can help you get through this and get out of this. You need to talk to someone." I then added, "You could talk to me."

"I don't want to talk now . Not to anyone. I don't want to relive it." A long silence, and then he asked, "Will you just stay here with me?"

So that's what happened. I respected his desire for quiet. We'd already spoken more during this exchange than we had since after his surgery. I sat on the side of the bed, holding his hand and stroking his face for a long time. Before I left, he thanked me for visiting him and I felt very happy. I had only an inkling of it at the time, but it was the start of Jean-Paul's recovery.

Chapter 17

Chapter 19 


	19. Chapter 19

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 19

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 19

Professor Xavier had a meeting with the five field commanders of the X-men as well as with those who were in charge of An'zhina----Jean, Banshee and Moira. The group sat around a table in one of the meetings rooms as Xavier was updated on the X-men meeting that had occurred the previous day.

"So you see, Professor," Storm was saying, "the timing of our next rescue mission depends on you since it is imperative we have a telepath. You and Jean are the only ones here."

Cyclops looked at Storm as she spoke. Storm certainly kept her emotions under wraps, but Cyclops had known her a long time. He wondered if he detected a hint of…reproach from her. Was she critical of Scott and Jean for choosing to remain on An'zhina rather than lead the next mission to earth? Jean's powers could be so beneficial. Maybe if Storm ever had children, she'd understand how important it is we stay with them and keep them out of harm.' Scott thought.

"I see," Charles replied. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "In that case, I require at least two more weeks to rest." His drained state was well known; everyone could see he was exhausted. The fact that he was making no attempt to disguise it was another indication as to how serious it was. Most people --- had they been in the identical physical and mental state of exhaustion as Charles -- would not even be attending such a meeting

"Only two weeks, Charles?" Moira asked softly. "No, I dona think that will be enough. You are tired," she said, with firmness in her voice.

"I agree," Banshee said, nodding his head vigorously. "Please consider taking at least a month to yourself."

Charles listened to their words and quietly considered taking their advice. Jean, sitting next to the Professor and, sensing that he might be considering a much-needed longer rest, gently touched his hand. "Listen to what they say, Professor. You have dedicated your life to helping mutants, but you'll do them no good if you're too tired to use your powers. FOH has Emma Frost on their side and you know that you face another battle with her. She is stronger than ever too. An'zhina has such a wonderful healing atmosphere. I agree with Banshee----you need to recoup for at least a month."

"Heck, it makes sense anyway," Rogue added. "Beast and Panda are preparing for their weddin.' Use this time to relax and we can all be here for the weddin' and give them plenty of time to prepare."

Hank smiled, thinking of his upcoming nuptials. "I agree with them, Professor. You need several weeks to repose."

Wolverine listened to the exchange. As soon as this meeting was over he was going to have to go break something----or at least destroy another punching bag at the gym since many of the walls in his room were marked with gashes from adamantium claws now. What the hell was the matter with everyone? The X-men had been back on An'zhina for five or six days now. He remembered back to their first ever rescue mission. The X-men had discussed and debated then, and had set out for earth after a break on An'zhina that had lasted less than a week. And back then some had felt guilty for even taking that time off while mutants were suffering. Now it looked like another long lay-over on An'zhina and no one cared.

As always, Wolverine was not one to hold his tongue --- but his respect and love for the Professor kept him silent. The old man was tired. To speak up and demand that he, and the rest of the X-men, return to earth now would be to demonstrate contempt for the man he admired so much. It wouldn't be honorable or right. Wolverine clenched a fist and tried to squelch his impatience and disdain of the others. He turned and glanced at Storm. His view of her around the circular table was obscured by the Professor, Hank, Jean and Scott in one direction, and by Moira, Banshee and Rogue in the other.

Wolverine's anger---and the effort of keeping it under control and not stomping out of the room---led him to tune out some of the discussion that ensued. Next time he tuned in, they were discussing Colossus's funeral.

"So it's scheduled for two days from now," Rogue said.

"You mean Friday," Banshee added.

Rogue smiled. "Gonna take me a while to get used to this new system, sugar. So today's Wednesday then?"

Many of the An'zhinins were tired of referring to specific days by saying things like, "three days from today" or "four days ago." So Banshee had learned that a "week" on Endaria was roughly equivalent to six earth days, and the group now used the names of days of the week. Each day except for Saturday, as the week had no seventh day, was now used. Banshee was working on a calendar so months could be better tracked as well. He also had learned that one "day" on An'zhina consisted of 23 hours and 52 minutes, so many were referring to the time by using earth hours.

"And then the healing ceremony will be the following day," Storm said. "Which would be Sunday. It is going to take some getting used to having days of the week again," she added. "Nevertheless, Shaman tells me he is enjoying the preparation of the ceremony and believes it will help us."

To Wolverine's relief, the meeting ended soon afterwards.

Immediately after the meeting, Charles's new hoverchair carried him down the hall, alongside Cyclops and Jean. The trio headed for one of the patios outside to sit and continue some much-needed discussions.

"It is good of your parents to babysit so much," the Professor said.

Jean smiled, "Professor, I can hardly get Char and Chris away from my parents! I think they forgot what it was like to have really young grandkids again."

"I miss the kids when I'm away for a few hours," Scott admitted, "but it's also nice to get some peace and quiet."

Jean nodded. "I knew having children would be work, but it still surprises me how much work it truly is. It's rewarding but so tiring at the same time."

The main complex on An'zhina was massive and it had several porches, each with its own stunning view of the outside. The three reached an unoccupied one, and settled down on the seats. In the distance, they could see the edges of the forest with its multi-colored trees and, in the background, they could hear the rich and alluring voice of Dani Moonstar leading a group in song. In the clearing before the forest, Jubilee, Rogue and Gambit were playing with little Aurora. Not far from them, Mark was raking leaves----a task that could've been done through automation, but was part of his punishment, which he accepted.

A cool breeze blew by, and the Professor inhaled, savoring the crisp and fresh air of this moon. As much as he missed earth, he was also growing to truly love it here. Jean felt the breeze and wrapped her arms around themselves, rubbing her arms and shoulders to warm up. Scott removed his jacket and put it around her shoulders.

"You'll be cold," Jean said to Scott. "Let me just go inside and get my own sweater." The Professor watched them, seeing the cherishing look that Jean gave Scott. Such love and passion

Scott nodded, and Jean returned promptly, wearing a fluffy, thick green sweater that flattered her hair and eyes well.

"Professor, I'm so glad that you agreed you need some time to rest," Jean said, once she'd settled down onto a chair beside Scott. The Professor's hoverchair faced the two. "I have never seen you looking this tired."

Charles nodded. "I finally have accepted that it is alright to admit to needing a rest," he said. "Perhaps in years past I might've pushed myself anyway, but I know now that would no longer be wise."

"How have you been feeling lately, Professor?" Jean then asked, in a voice that conveyed deep caring and concern. "I mean, apart from being tired. Sometimes I see great sadness on your face."

"I see it sometimes too," Scott admitted. "And I don't have Jean's powers."

The Professor took a deep breath. "I appreciate your concern for me. I truly do. And I will not lie to you and pretend that everything is alright." He shrugged. "But I must learn to deal with the inner struggles I am experiencing."

"But Professor, it was you who encouraged the rest of us to not bottle up our emotions," Jean said, imploringly, "to share them with others. And I worry sometimes because I don't see you taking your own advice on this." Jean silently added that the Professor seemed worse since Banshee had been discovered to be alive. His connection with Moira had then been strained since then, and the two were now often separated by the long missions to earth. It seemed that Charles had no true friend now.

Scott then added, "I remember when we were young and we came to your Institute to learn. At that time you were our headmaster, our instructor, and you had to keep a certain distance. It made sense then. But now we are more like each other's family." He paused. "It just is hard to see you….not feeling well."

The Professor nodded. "I do not mind sharing with you," he said, knowing the truth of Scott's words. Showing a vulnerable side wouldn't weaken their love and trust of him-----not after so many years, so many trials together. And he wanted to verbalize what he had been dealing with. "The inner demons I grapple with have to do with some decisions I have made. I have used my powers to enter people's minds without their consent. And I allowed Marrow and Psylocke to go free, when they will kill more human beings----as much as we might detest the actions that those human beings have committed." He took another breath. "I also feel a great deal of sadness over the situation on earth, and from counseling our rescuees and vicariously experiencing the torture they have been subjected to. Mainly I find myself struggling with the contradictions. I desperately want the oppression and annihilation of mutants on earth to end…..and using my powers in an unethical manner might be the only method of doing so. In short, I feel caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place, as Hank might explain it. I dislike seeing myself violating some of my own principles, but I sometimes feel that no matter which option I select, a wrong is committed."

Jean nodded. "I think a lot of other X-men feel the same way."

"Sometimes there are no perfect choices," Scott added. "Professor, you always---more than anyone I know---try to do the right thing, the moral thing. More than anyone I know, you weigh each option and agonize over it. I don't think you have anything to feel bad about."

Jean and Scott continued to talk with and console the Professor for a bit. Jean sensed her mentor's tempered discomfort. He was not used to their roles being reversed as this and it was a bit unnerving for Charles. But he also was receiving a measure of consolation from their discussion as well; he truly had not verbalized his emotions with anyone for a long time.

"Jean and I have been struggling with something too," Scott was saying. "We know that the next mission to earth requires a telepath. Jean and I have been considering going on that next mission----perhaps in place of you. That way you could get the rest and relaxation you need, the time to replenish your energy. And we could still accomplish the goals of the mission with Jean using her powers."

Jean nodded. "I could do it, Professor. Despite how busy I am with the kids and with the running of this moon, I still have been training and keeping my powers honed. You know that I would never let my training slide."

"But what about your children?" the Professor asked. He was quite surprised that Jean and Scott had even been contemplating this. He had not sensed it.

"That's the hard part," Scott admitted glumly. "One option is for Jean to go on the mission alone and me to stay here with the kids. At least they would be with one parent."

"I wrestle with this all the time," Jean said. "I—I can't imagine leaving them behind. I'm still breast-feeding Christopher, for one thing. Even if I wasn't, I can't fathom being separated from them for 10 weeks. So Scott and I then wonder if maybe both of us go on the mission and we bring Charlotte and Chris with."

"But then you face the dangers of the mission," the Professor said. "You saw what happened this time. We are fortunate indeed that we are still alive. And yet still, Colossus was killed, Jeanne-Marie's son taken from her, two of the X-men assaulted….."

"I know," Scott said. "So another option we consider is for both Jean and I to go on the mission but leave the kids with their grandparents. Though that would be so painful----not just for us, but also for the kids. Especially Charlotte given her empathy."

Jean nodded at Scott's words. "So you see, Professor---you're not the only one struggling with decisions or with feeling that no matter what you decide, it's wrong."

"We still don't know what to do or how to resolve this," Scott said. "But if Jean can go on the mission and use her powers, it might be just the way to get us making permanent change on earth and you having the rest you need."

"But now that we're parents, we have such fear about anything happening to the children. Or being able to be apart from them for so long," Jean concluded.

The Professor shut his eyes and rested his head in one hand. "Given all the turmoil you are experiencing over this, it makes me feel that I should hurry up and recoup, so that you don't have to make that decision."

"No!" Jean exclaimed. "That is the last thing we would want. Professor---you have already sacrificed so much for the X-men and for all mutants! We're not trying to make you feel guilty. You yourself admitted that you need some more rest."

"I will personally restrain you myself if you attempt to go on another mission to earth," Scott joked. "At least not until we're all satisfied that you've regained your energy."

"You can't restrain someone with telekinesis such as mine," the Professor said, returning Scott's levity.

"Jean will help me," Scott teased.

"You won't stand a chance against both of us," Jean smiled.

The three then agreed to give it some more thought and come together later on to determine which course of action they might take.

That evening Scott and Jean returned to their room, after having checked in with Jean's parents. John and Elaine were delighted to continue babysitting. "Good," Scott said, after Jean had "hung up" with her parents and told Scott of their willingness to look after the kids for a few more hours. He reached for Jean and affectionately caressed her hair. "That means we have some time alone together."

Jean easily fell into the embrace. "Oh yeah? Do you have any ideas on how we could use that time?" she teased, knowing exactly where his thoughts were going. Hers were already there. She pulled her husband into a sensual embrace.

I went back to spending significant portions of each day with Jean-Paul. Things were getting better between us. They were far from perfect, but they were better. Oftentimes it was the three of us----Jeanne-Marie would join us. We coaxed him out of the room at times and sometimes took an evening or early morning walk. We went to pay a visit to the memorial that had been built outside the main complex--- the memorial dedicated to all mutants who had been killed because of prejudice. (Colossus's name was going to be added to it as part of his funeral --- which was rapidly approaching.)

Jean-Paul didn't want to take his meals in the dining hall with everyone though—in fact he said he did not want to interact with anyone other than Jeanne-Marie and I. But at least we got him looking better, talking a bit more and getting out of the room.

"You want to talk about what happened?" I softly asked him late one evening. Jeanne-Marie had gone back to her own quarters, and Jean-Paul and I were sitting facing each other in his room. I wondered if perhaps the room he had been tortured in had blared with bright lights. Jean-Paul really had now taken a liking to darkness and semi-darkness, which hadn't been the case before. As we sat in that room, my eyes strained to discern his features as the sun set outside. A rich patch of light filtered in through the window, but it hit the dresser and part of one wall, leaving Jean-Paul's beautiful features shrouded in the semi-darkness.

He shook his head. "I don't ever want to think of it again. I wish my memory could be erased."

"We'll get through it," I whispered, leaning forward and touching one of his knees. "I know you're strong enough." I paused, and then added, "You know how much Jeanne-Marie and I care about you. We're here for you." Jeanne-Marie, by the way, had once said to me that she thought perhaps the long time he was taking to recover was due to him never having dealt adequately with the first time FOH had tortured him. It made sense to me.

"Bobby," he began, in an imploring tone which I knew meant he was going to ask a favor of me, "will you sleep here tonight?"

"Of course," I said, though shocked at the request. He and I had never once fallen asleep in the same bed before. I, of course, would've loved to snuggle up with him at night but he had never wanted it before, always getting up from my bed to leave for his own room. Then I was hit with a thought. Maybe he didn't mean what I so fervently hoped. "You mean like you want me to sleep on the sofa?" I asked, craning my head around and looking at the soft couch.

"No. I think I'd like you to sleep next to me on the bed. If you want," he said straightforwardly.

"I'd love to." I was really happy and delighted at his apparent change of heart. Jean-Paul was silent then and I kept debating myself whether or not to bring up an ugly topic. I never had confronted him about the last time we'd had sex (I sure can't call it "making love", given how brusque he had been.) He'd never brought it up or apologized for it, and I hated just letting that incident stand.

But that evening, I was too warmed by his request that we share a bed to ruin the mood. And I also felt a flash of guilt for wanting an apology….after he had suffered so much. I decided to let it go, maybe forever.

Jean-Paul and I didn't get sexual that night but we did fall asleep spooned together. I got to experience what I hadn't experienced for too long to calculate: the pleasure of cuddling up with someone you love and drifting off to sleep alongside them. I was too gleeful to fall asleep right away, but when I did, it was a deep and contented sleep.

The following night, the same thing. Jean-Paul asked me to share his bed and we did----again without having sex. He woke up in the middle of the night this time though, shaking and reeling from the images from a nightmare. I held him as he shook. I quietly encouraged him to cry or to somehow get it all out but he would not.

Just a couple days later, it was time for Colossus's funeral. The funeral was held outside, in the same large clearing near the main complex where we'd had Rogue and Gambit's wedding. This time it was a much more solemn occasion obviously and needless to say there were no festive decorations. The lay-out was simple: chairs had just been arranged in a semi-circle. A few of Peter's paintings were on display as well. I got teary when I looked at them. I think it was then that finally, finally it hit me and I understood he was gone. Such a young man and such amazing promise, and he was gone forever.

The day was even chillier than usual----and we were now in An'zhina's "cold" time of year, which maybe equated to sweater-wearing weather during the day and sweater-plus-jacket-and-gloves in the evening if you were to go outside. However Storm worked her magic that day and made the temperature more moderate.

Jean-Paul was up for attending, which I was glad for. Each day he seemed a bit better, thank goodness. It also would have looked really bad if he didn't attend. He sat between Jeanne-Marie and I. I noticed many people craning their heads to get a look at him. It made sense---unless you happened to glimpse him during one of our walks, he still didn't leave our room much. And he looked a bit different now. He'd lost weight and his face was suddenly older. No less handsome, but definitely older.

Jubilee sat on my other side, her daughter with her. I spotted Colossus's love, Elena in one of the front aisles. She sat between Panda and Rogue. At many times during the ceremony, both women were comforting her either with words or body language.

We had no body to bury, and hence no funeral procession to begin the ceremony with. The memorial began with Dani Moonstar walking to the center area and taking out her flute. She played a moving, haunting song. I looked around and saw several people getting teary-eyed already. Obviously they missed Colossus but the tears were also due to Dani's music----it had that type of effect on you. I wondered if such magical playing could be due to some unseen mutant power, as it was so incredible.

When Dani was finished, the Professor moved to the center and began to speak. He talked about when Peter joined the X-men and all the contributions he made during his years on the team. The Professor talked about Peter's valor and honor, and what a solid X-man he was. How eager he was to help with any and everything. He also talked about the kind of person Peter was, how we all respected and liked him.

Hank then took to the center and read a few poems. One of them was an original poem that he himself had written! Hank is so cool. People leaned forward on their seats to listen.

I recalled the wording of one of the poems he recited. It was called Khansa (Tears) and the author was R.A. Nikolson.

Tears, ere thy death, for many a one I shed ,

But thine are all my tears since thou art dead .

To comforters I lend my ear apart ,

While pain sits ever closer to my heart.

As Hank's melodic voice read those words, I felt a slight pressure on my shoulder. Jean-Paul had dropped his head on my shoulder and was quietly crying! I was so shocked. Jean-Paul hadn't cried at all since we rescued him. In fact, I hadn't ever seen him weep before at all. I reached my arms around and held him closely. I was so glad that he was finally, finally letting the dam burst.

I was also quite shocked to see Storm crying a bit too. First time for everything, I guess. I mean, there had been that time on the Paradise Planet when we'd shared a tent, and she had woken up in the middle of the night, having a terrible nightmare. But even then she hadn't actually cried. During the memorial, Storm sat on one of Gambit's sides (Rogue, of course, being on the other.) Gambit put an arm around her. I respectfully looked away, though she did not appear to be embarrassed about it (neither did Jean-Paul about his own tears.) I did take a peek to see where Wolverine might be and located him in one of the back rows.

When Hank was finished with poetry, Nightcrawler got up and relayed a few anecdotes that involved Colossus. I always forget about Kurt's more mischievous side. Sometimes all I see is the serious monk but I forget that he's quite a jokester too. He told of a time he and Peter went behind Cyclops's back on something. All had turned out well in the end and a few people chuckled at the story. (And I later found that the tale had been pre-approved by One-Eye beforehand.)

After Kurt was finished, the Professor then said that Elena had come up with the idea of planting a tree in honor of Peter. Elena then got up and led all of us to a clearing where the tree would be planted. Remember that there now were hundreds of people living on An'zhina so it was quite a bulky crowd, but we all managed to get to the spot that had been set aside for the tree. Jean-Paul and I held hands as we walked, and Jeanne-Marie held his other hand.

When we reached the area, we were standing behind several rows of people and could not see well. But Rogue dug out a spot and Elena planted the tree. I noticed that Elena was not getting teary. I presumed she had done so much crying in the previous weeks that she was finished with it for now. She really was holding herself together well.

From the site of the tree, Elena and the Professor then led everyone in a procession to the monument that had been created by An'zhinans to honor all the mutants who's lives had been ended due to prejudice and hatred. I know that many An'zhinans took great pride in this memorial, especially as it had been built by them, from the ground up. This was a fantastic monument, and the names of many X-men had been placed on there----Shadowcat, Thunderbird, Morph. Even the names of Magneto and Mystique were on there. After all, Magneto had once been a close friend of the Professor and Mystique once foster-mother to Rogue. She was also birth mother to Nightcrawler though she abandoned him when he was a baby. Mystique and Magneto had been slain by FOH and deserved their places on the tribute as well.

I heard a voice beside me murmur, "We wanted the same thing."

I turned to Jean-Paul. "What's do you mean?" I asked.

"The X-men and those two names you were staring at----Magneto and Mystique," he whispered to me. His thoughts had been where mine were. "They wanted the same thing we Alpha Flight members and X-men wanted. The difference was they thought it could only be done at the expense of regular humans and they were willing to harm anyone in their way."

"Funny how little it matters now," I said. "Magneto and most of his followers are dead. They have turned to dust."

"As has Colossus. And as we all shall someday."

Wolverine had created a placard for Colossus's name, and it was ceremoniously placed on the memorial. Again, we couldn't see well that day due to the throngs of people but we heard the Professor say to the group that he longed for the day when we would not need to add any other names to the monument. Jean-Paul and I looked at each other and solemnly agreed.

The memorial for Peter was concluded with Dani Moonstar again asking us to form a circle and hold hands. It was one massive circle but it worked. She then sang a song, accompanied by two instrumentalists. She said it was a traditional Russian folk song---a lullaby---that Elena had taught her. She once again awed and amazed everyone with her voice and ability. (And how neat that she'd learned to sing in Russian, though whether she was getting any words wrong, probably only Elena would know.) When Moonstar was finished with the melancholy piece, there were very few dry eyes----if any.

It was an awesome ceremony (and I do mean that; we left with a sense of awe.) Finally, it seemed, we realized what we lost and what an incredible man Peter Rasputin was. And though my heart was aching, at least this memorial helped bring some closure to it all.

And just personally too, I do think it was a break-through for Jean-Paul. Jeanne-Marie and I barely let him out of our grasp (literally) but he finally seemed a bit better. When the ceremony was over, everyone went to the dining hall for lunch. For the first time since his rescue, Jean-Paul was okay about eating with the group. He wasn't sociable and didn't talk much, but pretty much everyone (well, all of the X-men) went up to him and said how good it was to see him, asked how he was doing, etc. That was great. And like I said, he didn't converse with them much but he clearly was doing better. I could tell it meant something to him, too, that so many people expressed concern over him.

When the ceremony was over, I felt on cloud nine. Jean-Paul then turned to Jeanne-Marie and I, and asked what we wanted to do. The three of us hung out in the rec room, and later went to the gym to work out. It was thrilling to see Jean-Paul wanting to be around us so much and acting almost as he had before! He said he hadn't hit the gym in weeks and said that it felt good to be back at it.

That evening, just as we had the previous two nights, Jean-Paul and I cuddled up and slept together….but again without making love. If he wasn't ready to be sexual yet, I was totally cool with that. I would go at whatever pace he wanted. I drifted off to sleep feeling great.

You know, I just read over what I wrote down here, and I have realized something. I'm giving this glowing account of this day like everything was fantastic. And, for the most part, it was a miraculous day----both for me personally since things really have been getting better with Jean-Paul, and, I'd presume to say, it was a magical day for the rest of the team as well. But I left one thing out, probably because I didn't want to remember it.

I had another run-in with my old friend Todd.

As I'd mentioned before, during the trek the group made from the area where we planted the tree to the monument where Colossus's name was added, Jean-Paul and I held hands. (And Jeanne-Marie was holding his other hand.) Out of the hundreds of people there, we had the good fortune to cross paths with Todd. I nearly gasped when I saw him. I had honestly kinda forgotten about him, being wrapped up in Jean-Paul and the other X-men since I returned. I didn't even think I'd seen Todd since returning from our mission. But he spotted Jean-Paul and I, took a pointed look at our clasped-together hands, and then scrunched up his features, making an ugly face at us. He and I held eye-contact for about one second; there were so many people walking and it was easy to lose track of anyone. I turned and looked at Jean-Paul but thankfully he was looking downwards and hadn't noticed Todd at all. I turned back to confront Todd but he had disappeared into the masses of the herd.

I think I was determined to forget all about that incident and just carry on. Maybe for a while, it was forgotten. But it kept coming back to haunt me.

Jean Grey sat with her family during the meal after Colossus's funeral. Also sitting at the long, rectangular table were Storm, Angel, and Dani Moonstar.

Elaine Grey smiled as she reached for the bread basket and helped herself to a roll. "Dani, I must ask you this. How old are you? Because you seem so young and yet you have such confidence and presence in front of a group of 350 people!"

Moonstar smiled. "I'm 21," she replied.

"Your voice is just heavenly," Sara Grey added, buttering her own roll of bread. "And so is your flute-playing." Angel was sitting next to Sara and he nodded vigorously.

"What a lovely tribute to Colossus," Jean mused. "The way you play your music is so….inspired. All through it, my Charlotte was smiling….she felt such delight the whole time."

"Guys, stop it! I'm blushing," Dani teased.

"I'm really glad you've decided to train with the X-men," Scott said. He looked at Jean and knew she shared his thoughts. Could Dani be a potential leader someday in the future? They needed a new generation of strong leaders. There truly were too many mutants who were content to bask in the beauty of An'zhina without ever training or contributing to the X-men's work.

"As I am too," Storm said, nodding. "You are truly an asset to us." She also looked forward to grooming Moonstar for possible leadership someday. Her mutant power----the ability to project thoughts from other people's minds into reality----had great potential as well.

Dani thanked the others again for her praise and went back to eating, her face red. Inwardly, she was glowing with the compliments.

Storm scooped up a forkful of buttery mashed potatoes, realizing she truly was not hungry despite the delicious aroma wafting from the food. She had broken down during the ceremony and cried. Ororo, it is perfectly acceptable and even expected to cry during a teammate's funeral,' she chided herself. Even the Professor and half the men there had tears in their eyes.'

But then the deeper shame set in. Her weeping had partially been due to realizing the loss of Peter. Mostly, however, it was due to missing Wolverine. His absence gnawed at her constantly and nothing on An'zhina was serving to replace it. Shame on me for not being focussed on Peter during the ceremony,' she thought. She then forgave herself for it and reminded herself not to feel such guilt over emotions. Emotions simply exist; there is no reason to feel disgrace over any of them since we cannot control them.' Continuously, the very-controlled Storm fought to calm the chaos inside of her.

The day after Colossus's funeral, Sara Grey prepared for a dreaded task. It would not at all be easy but, at this point, there was no alternative. She and Jean had engaged in many discussions about this and she knew now that doing nothing would be worse.

"Hi, Logan," she said, having found the man she wanted to talk to. He was outside of the main complex, doing some woodworking though the project was in too early of a state to tell exactly what it was that he worked on. Perhaps another toy for the children; with Panda and Hank expecting, there would be a fourth X-child.

"Sara," he said, looking up and smiling. He put the project he was working on to the side so he could focus his attention on her.

Seeing the look on his face, Sara's heart fell just a little. He still has no idea,' she thought to herself. I thought someone as perceptive as him ---with his senses so strong----surely would know what's been going on by now. Well, I guess big sis was right again.' She mustered her voice and began to speak, "Hey, uh, Logan do you have a minute to talk?"

"For you, darlin', always," he said. Again, there was such gentleness and eagerness in his voice

"I, uh, have something to tell you," she said, feeling the butterflies swarm in her stomach. Hints of disappointment started to show on Logan's face. "I think you are really….really nice. You're a great person. I…appreciate all the attention you've given me. But I, uh…wanted to let you know that I've started dating someone."

For a split-second, Sara could see the disappointment flash across Logan's face. He then replaced it quickly. "Oh really?" he asked. His tone wasn't angry; he was struggling to keep it neutral. And he wanted more information, Sara could tell.

"Yeah. Uh---one of the X-men actually. Warren Worthington. I just find that he and I have a lot in common and we've really hit it off well. So I, uh, just wanted to thank you for all the….care and attention you've given me, but…." she let her voice trail off.

Logan nodded. "I see, darlin'."

"I'm sorry," she said, and then silently cursed herself for apologizing. Kind as Logan was, she owed him nothing and had no reason to apologize. But he was clearly a caring and special man, and she felt bad for his disappointment. It was just that Warren Worthington was so charming and so cultured, in a way that Logan clearly was not. Warren was a perfect gentleman. The Greys had not possessed wealth at a level anywhere near the Worthington clan, but they had been comfortably upper-middle class. Something about Warren's genteel background was far easier for Sara to digest than Logan's working-class air.

And Warren's looks didn't hurt either. Albeit blue-skinned, he was handsome in a very traditional way, a way that really got Sara's interest. In the past, his blue skin color might've been unnerving to Sara, but given that her own daughter now had skin of a green hue, Sara had come to realize how little skin color really mattered. And being 5'7" tall, Sara liked Warren's height (over 6') as well. Sara enjoyed dancing and thought she would look ridiculous stooped over a man shorter than she.

Another reason for Sara's preference for Warren had to do with the fact that he had no history with Jean. Since arriving on An'zhina, Sara and her sister discussed Logan's pursuit of Jean in the past, and Sara feared that Logan was only interested due to Sara's resemblance to Jean. She did not want to become entangled in that, and she wanted a man who was truly interested in her----not her sister. Warren showered such attention on her that she didn't question his sincere interest.

Obviously Sara felt comfortable sharing none of these reasons with Logan. She simpy bade him well and then headed back for the main complex. It had been so long since she'd been courted as both Warren and Logan had been doing. She eagerly looked forward to getting back with Warren. He'd promised to give her a ride, flying over the forest today.

We X-men went from one sort of recuperating experience to another. Two days after Colossus's funeral, we again gathered together----this time for the healing ceremony. I hadn't been paying much attention to the group meetings and happenings because of the condition that Jean-Paul had been in, but now that he was getting better I was more interested in what the group was doing. I'd learned that Shaman had proposed doing this a while ago and planned to lead it---just as he had led a healing ceremony for the X-men years ago, in those days we lived aboard Freedom, long before we'd been given An'zhina and even before we visited the Paradise Planet. The ceremony he'd presided over years ago had been a cool oasis in a dry desert; it had re-energized us and helped us bond. I liked the idea of going through it again and felt we could sure use it.

Some of the X-men had questioned having a separate healing ceremony, given that everything we did for Peter's funeral really seemed to help us recover. But a group of us sat together at dinner one day and got to talking about it. Storm made the argument that Peter's funeral appropriately focussed on saying goodbye to Peter. "We X-men now have to heal and move forward as a team," she said. "We need to concentrate on the damage that has been done to us. All of us."

She also added that the funeral had involved everyone on An'zhina, but this healing ceremony would be just for the X-men. The group liked her thoughts, and we went ahead with the healing ceremony.

Therefore, one evening, Shaman led us X-men out into the forested area. All of us were there----the Professor, Storm, Cyclops, Jean, Wolverine, Gambit, Rogue, Hank, Panda, Jubilee, Angel, Nightcrawler, Banshee, Northstar, Aurora and myself. Moira was there as well---she was a member of the family too. Our three newest members participated too----Moonstar, Cannonball and Wraith. After all, they were X-men now also; they trained just as hard as the rest of us and deserved the opportunity to bond with all of us too.

We set out not long after dinner when the sun had already set, so we carried flashlights. Jean-Paul and I walked alongside Gambit and Rogue, and Gambit was using a lighted card to lead the way. I took periodic glances towards Remy and I kept taking a peak at his face, half illuminated by the card. His eyes were lit up, glowing hot and even a touch scary in contrast to his angelic face.

I was struck over and over again by what I saw in that face. I know it sounds crazy since at that point I'd known Gambit for years. And when I say it struck me, I don't just mean how handsome he was, though that was part of it. But it was more that I thought of everything he's been through and how…content he'd seemed lately. It had not always been so for him; he'd had much angst in his life. He hardly ever spoke of his past to me, but he didn't need to. I could detect how much sorrow and struggle he'd been through in his time. But now, holding Rogue's hand, he seemed happier than ever. Maybe "happy" isn't the perfect word but he seemed more at peace than I'd ever known him and maybe more than he ever imagined he would be. I loved Remy; he'd been such a good friend to me. I realized how little I'd seen him lately, as wrapped up in Jean-Paul as I had been, and vowed to try to work more on our friendship.

Shaman was wise to use darkness to help cloak us. I recalled that for the first healing ceremony we'd had so long ago on Freedom, we had sat in a dark room, with numerous candles surrounding us. Sometimes clear light can be harsh, and for something like this it was better to be enveloped by darkness. It was comforting, in a way.

Plus the darkness would hide you if you just wanted to roll your eyes. I kept thinking that Wolverine probably disdained this sort of stuff quite a bit but, hey, he was here. It was cool that he showed up. He didn't have to.

We reached a small clearing within the forest and Shaman asked us to all sit in a circle. In the middle of the circle Shaman had already prepared a fire pit though no fire burned there yet. He then began the ceremony by passing a drink around and asking us to each take a sip. As I saw the large cup go around, I fleetingly wondered if Shaman had some sort of hypnotic mutant power in addition to his ability to heal. Here he had a group of many of the most powerful mutants in the galaxy, several of whom were very iron-willed. Yet we followed his suggestions without protest or questioning. Perhaps some had asked him beforehand what we'd be drinking, but no one asked during the ceremony and each just silently took a sip.

And then I thought of why perhaps it was so. There was so much sadness and depression in our group, maybe all of us desperately hoped for some healing. Once I'd come out of my shell of being wrapped up in Jean-Paul, I noticed how many of the other X-men were melancholy. Or anxious over something----I detected a bit of nervousness in the air too though exactly what it stemmed from I was not sure. But because of these emotional struggles, maybe the group was willing to do whatever it took to gain some solace as many of us were so down. (I guilty realized that I hadn't spent much time with Jubilee since the day after we'd returned from the mission, and I knew she was sad about what happened with Lisman.)

And besides, we trusted Shaman. He was quiet and a bit mysterious, spending most of his free time with his wife and daughter, but he had definitely proven himself worthy of our confidence. He never displayed ego or bravado, and I never once doubted that the reason he led this ceremony was because he cared about the future of our team.

After we'd each had a swig of the drink, Shaman began to speak. His voice rang out, deep and melodic. He kept it low but it carried well. He said that he would like to begin the ceremony with a moment of silence for each of us to pray. "Pray to whatever Higher Power you believe in, and if you believe in none, then please observe a moment of silence," he said. "Pray for healing and pray for guidance. Pray for those we have lost---like Peter----but also pray for yourself." His words sounded almost hypnotic, like he was suggesting these things and not commanding them, but that we would all follow his suggestion.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head downwards. I still didn't know what I thought or believed in terms of spirituality. I envied those who were confident in their beliefs, like Jean-Paul who was Catholic (despite the fact that his beliefs differed from church dogma frequently), or Storm who was undoubtedly praying to the Mother Goddess. I then just thought something along the lines of, If there is a Greater Power out there, please help all mutants, please rest Colossus in peace, and please help us bring down FOH.' That would have to do. When I was finished with that, which took all of 6 seconds, I felt my legs cramping up and shifted position. After more time had passed, I half-opened my eyes and saw Shaman noiselessly moving about, lighting candles around the circle that our bodies made.

Finally he spoke and said, "When you are finished, please open your eyes." A lot of people were done by then, and we were able to move on with the ceremony. The candles around the group helped set the mood to be even more reflective and moving. Some of the candles burned with gentle, earthy scents. I thought I sensed a woody fragrance from the one nearest me, but then wondered if that was just the natural perfume of the forest we sat in. Maybe the candle was magnifying it somehow.

Shaman next said he would like to lead us in a guided meditation. I could practically hear a few eyes rolling but we went along with it anyway. I don't remember this part all that well and it went on for a long time. Basically what he was saying was cool. He was like leading us as we thought about using our powers to reach out to mutants on earth and help them, and to bring down the Friends of Humanity. This portion did take a long time though, and my mind kept wandering. I've never had much luck with meditation since my thoughts go in so many directions at once. But I liked the concept of using our minds to focus our energies and thoughts.

I really gotta hand it to Wolverine for not stomping off. I could practically hear him saying, Instead of thinking about kicking FOH ass, let's get out and do it!' But he still stayed sitting with us. Whether he did this because he, too, desperately sought healing and knew not where else to turn or for some other reason, I didn't know.

Then I realized something. I was really stereotyping Wolverine, unfairly. I think I've been doing it for a while. Maybe he had this macho image (which I'd seen him disprove countless times anyway) but he always had enjoyed doing this type of reflection and, I was told, meditation. Jubilee told me of a time when he took weeks away from the X-men to spend time meditating in Japan. So I really shouldn't act like he was a stranger to such rituals.

When we were finished with the meditation, Shaman spoke again. Just as he began to talk, the wind seemed to pick up again and I turned my head, noticing the rustling of the trees in the darkness. The candles perhaps should have blown out but they didn't.

Shaman said that many of us were experiencing such feelings as sadness, fear, and exhaustion. He then said something like, "Given everything we have been through, such emotions are very normal. We mutants, we X-men, have such mighty powers that we often don't grant ourselves permission to be anything less than some mythical superheros. But let us all speak of our hurt. The power of our words will help bind us together and begin the healing process. The power of our love for each other will hold us together."

Maybe coming from anyone else at any other time, such words would sound corny. But they were not, I mused, as I leaned forward. I was now glued to every word out of that man's mouth. However, for several moments, there was quiet and all that could be heard were the sounds of the forest. No one took up Shaman's invitation to speak.

But then I heard Jeanne-Marie break the silence and speak. "I am sad," she said. "I lost my son and I will never see him again. His absence is an open wound and I cannot believe that fate is so cruel that I must be apart from my own flesh and blood. Sometimes I think that life is very hard….very, very hard to us mutants and I wonder why. And I hope that God has not abandoned us."

Her words seemed to open the floodgates. One by one, people spoke. Jubilee said she was sad about being rejected by Lisman. Banshee then actually said that he was sad it was his daughter that caused her that pain! (I was shocked to hear that; I thought he might leave that as one of the things that just isn't talked about in public. Good for him for not sweeping it under the table.)

Then the Professor spoke! I guess there is a first time for everything. I never expected him to open up with us, his students. But he spoke about his misgivings with the way he has used his powers and his sadness about the situation on earth. He added that he felt pain at seeing and feeling so many of "my X-men" being depressed. He then mentioned that he was tired to his core and wanted to be re-energized. I was just not used to seeing this side of the Professor, admitting to vulnerabilities and it was eye-opening. And it was very cool of him.

Other X-men opened up too. Cyclops spoke of his frustration at the situation on earth and not being able to make an impact. The new guy, who I'd hardly made the time to get to know, Wraith talked. He said he felt thrilled and happy to be made an X-man but also distressed at the ostracism that many of the mutants here---though none of the X-men!----had shown him. When he spoke, at first I was incredulous that mutants would shun a fellow mutant because of the way he looked. But I then thought about it and I knew there were some mutants, such as my pal Todd, who would indeed stoop to that.

Jean Grey said how terribly she missed Colossus and how painful his loss was. She mentioned that we X-men have lost so many that the hurt can get overwhelming. "Sometimes I think we make ourselves pretend that we're tough enough and strong enough, and we can just take all these losses. But I am hurting over Peter and I don't want to pretend otherwise. And I'm angry. Those FOH….bastards stole his life away from us!" You didn't hear Jean swear every day (I couldn't recall hearing profanity from her ever.) Her sentiments---both the pain and the rage---were echoed by many.

Hank spoke too. He said he is "overjoyed" about his upcoming wedding and the fact that he is going to be a father. "And yet at the same time, I feel wracked with guilt as I see so many of you are depressed about other matters," he said. "I feel almost as if it is unjust for me to experience such happiness."

Barely a split-second after the words were out of Hank's mouth, Rogue piped up and said she had been feeling exactly the same way "for weeks." She went off on that for a bit. Shaman then stepped in and asked that we all realize that we are not responsible for the emotions of our fellow X-men. If one of us is feeling happy, we should not feel compelled to hide it. Nor should those who are depressed feel the need to fake it and pretend that everything is alright if they do not wish to.

Another of the new recruits, Cannonball said that he missed his parents and sister back on earth. "Y'all have been so welcoming to me and, like Hector said, I'm honored to be an X-man and all….But nothin' can replace my family." His voice overflowed with pain and longing.

Then Storm spoke. She said, "My spirit is so low, seeing and interacting with all the mutants who have been tortured by the FOH. I feel our community bleeding from within and I feel anger at how we've failed to stop it. I feel overwhelmed at how enormous the problem on earth is." She said a few more things along those lines. For a second or two, I thought she might talk about the fact that she was raped last time FOH held her prisoner and maybe express some outrage over that, but she did not.

Jean-Paul next addressed the group. He quietly said, "I just want to thank everyone for taking care of me. Bobby and Jeanne-Marie and Hank. Thank you all." I noticed that Jeanne-Marie, sitting on his other side, reached for his hand and held it. I put an arm around Jean-Paul.

I chose not to say anything during the ceremony. Part of it was that I couldn't really think of anything I wanted to get off my chest. I was just relived that Jean-Paul was getting better and glad to be sitting here with my family. I wasn't the only one who remained silent and Shaman said that he respected those who don't want to share too

Shaman then asked if anyone else wanted to speak. Jean Grey asked if she could have the floor again, and Shaman told her, "Of course." Jean then said, "Usually the one around here who quotes poetry is Hank. However, I wanted to read a few stanzas of a poem called Still I Rise.' The author is Maya Angelou. This poem meant a lot to me, in terms of being a mutant and I thought it might be fitting to read it here.

"You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I'll rise…

Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I'll rise

Did you want to see me broken?

Bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulder falling down like teardrops,

Weakened by my soulful cries….

Up from a past that's rooted in pain,

I rise

I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,

Welling and swelling I bear in the tide,

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear

I rise"

Jean read the poem really well, with quite a bit of fire in her voice. It was very moving. I saw Hank, the biggest poetry aficionado of us all, listening with rapt attention. I'm not that into poetry but I listened to every word and Jean did a great job.

When we were all finished, Shaman spoke again. He said, "Let us now take all of this pain, all of these negative thoughts, and negative experiences and let's now discard them. The incidents that happened in the past now exist only in our minds. They are only a memory now, as we must live in the present. These painful experiences unfortunately can linger in our minds for a long time and prevent us from moving forward. But it is now time to move on, to jettison the hurt and the pain. It is now time for us to ritually cast it out of our lives and remove its power."

Shaman then rose from his seat and distributed paper and pens to everyone. He nodded to Gambit, and Gambit tossed something into the fire pit in the middle so that flames would begin to burn. "Write whatever you will on these papers," Shaman said. "Whatever hurtful incidents you have experienced or negative thoughts you have. Write whatever you wish to rid yourself of. You do not need to share anymore with the group, unless you want to. When you are done writing, get up and toss it into the fire, symbolically riding yourself of the hurt."

So we all got to doing that. As we wrote and as people got up to toss scraps of paper into the fire, Shaman added, "You can write something as vague as an emotion----such as anger' or shame'--- or something more specific, such as the murder of Colossus." He paused and, as we continued to write, he also said, "Try to also think of what makes it difficult to move on, what will make it a challenge to get away from the hurt. For example, I am writing down the fact that most of my former teammates in Alpha Flight were killed and that I miss them terribly. Yet as I toss this into the fire, I will be conscious of the fact that it is hard to let go. Continuing to mourn for them and wish for days past will prevent me from getting wounded again, from opening myself up to more pain. So I must be very conscious of the temptation to hold on to the hurt and I must be ready to fight it. Please keep this in mind and be conscious when, in the weeks and months to come, you find yourself holding on to the hurt and pain or living in the past."

Shaman allowed a lot of time for us to write, and people filtered up gradually to toss their papers into the fire. When we were all finished, Shaman then asked Dani to sing a song accompanied on flute by Storm! I guess it was an evening of miracles. I hadn't even been aware that Storm had been taking lessons from Dani, but the two of them created this beautiful song. I don't think I can do any justice to it with mere words. Music has to be felt and experienced, and this song reached to my own soul. Nothing I write on paper or on my computer can express their magical music. It just felt like a wave of healing energy washed over me and I think that the others all felt it too.

When they were finished playing, Shaman quietly said that the ceremony was ended. By then I somehow felt reinvigorated and re-energized down to my bones. During the walk back to the main complex, Jean-Paul and I ended up next to Storm, and she and I shared our feelings about the what had just transpired.

I first complimented her on her flute playing. She thanked me, and then spoke about what she got out of the ceremony. "It is the power of family coming together," Storm said. "You remember all the small ceremonies that Jean, Jubilee, Rogue and I had after our original capture. We fed off each other's energy and strength to recover. That is what the X-men have just done now. I know the team will be stronger going forward."

I nodded, amazed and happy.

"Are you tired?" I asked Jean-Paul when he and I arrived at his quarters immediately after the healing ceremony.

"No," he said, sitting down on the bed. "I feel relaxed but not really tired. What about you?"

"The same," I said. I stood before him, facing him but not yet sitting down.

Suddenly the look on his face changed. A look came over his eyes, one that I had seen before but not for a long while. "Mon amour…." he began, smiling suggestively and gesturing at the bed. "Let me make love to you tonight. You'd like that, no?" He reached for one of my hands and held it.

My heart leapt. I fought to maintain some control, and to once again get my brain ahead of lower parts of my anatomy. "I would like that very much." I paused, "But…"

"But what?" he asked, his face starting to fall.

I hated talking about this sort of thing, just as I so disliked seeing the disappointment on Jean-Paul's face. I would much rather have forgotten that ugly event ….but I guess one thing I'd taken away from my years as an X-man--and especially had underscored at the ceremony that evening---was that it is not possible to simply forget the bad incidents from our pasts and wish them away. I mustered my voice and said, "But it cannot be like the last time."

I saw a few emotions flash across his face. I saw guilt and unhappiness. I also knew he wished as fervently as I did that that awful last time had never happened. "It will not, mon coeur," he said at last. "It will not ever happen again." His eyes looked downwards and then rose to meet mine. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, reaching for my hands and holding them.

I squeezed his hands and then placed mine on either side of his face. I bent down and planted a kiss on his forehead. "I forgive you, my love," I said. "Now that you've apologized, let's forget that it ever happened, okay?"

"Yes….Yes, let's do that," he said, sounding relieved and regretful at the same time.

So that night we made love, really for the first time since before our capture on the mission. It had been so long. Jean-Paul was affectionate and tender, just as he had always been before. The first time he touched my bare skin, planting a series of kisses and caresses on my torso, I cried out with unbridled joy and ecstasy. There had been a point when I thought I might never experience this again, but here we were, together again. Jean-Paul smiled at how vocal I was in my enjoyment.

Charlotte and Christopher were put down for the night. When Jean and Scott retrieved their children from Jean's parents, Charlotte immediately awoke from her sleep and absorbed the feelings of peace and tranquility that both of her parents had taken from the healing ceremony. Jean and Scott carried their children back to their room and laid them to rest in their own beds, Chris's crib parked adjacent to the king-sized bed of the couple.

Jean and Scott then sat on the bed, facing each other. Jean felt an energy, an intensity, pulsing through the air and through Scott.

"You're thinking what I'm thinking, aren't you?" Jean began.

"Yes," Scott said, looking into Jean's brilliant green eyes. They blazed with the magic that both of them still felt from the healing ceremony. "We need to be on the next mission," he said definitively.

"Yes." Jean held Scott's gaze. "For the sake of our people---mutants---we need to be there. I need to be on that mission at the very least."

Scott nodded. "I think we both can go. We'll go with the extremely low-risk plan that we spoke about. We'll never lower our shields or take down the cloaking device. We'll make this mission solely one of mind-control, of changing the minds of the leadership of Friends of Humanity."

"If we go that route, we can bring the children. I know they will be safe. And you know we can't part from them at this time---it wouldn't be right to leave them here without us for 10 weeks.."

Scott nodded. They had been through this hundreds of times and this was the best route that anyone had come up with. "Let's tell the Professor tomorrow."

Jean smiled and then sighed. "What is it about Shaman and the ceremonies he leads? This one and the one years ago. Both were just perfect. For the first time, I feel firm and secure in our decision about the next mission."

"I, too," Scott said. "I don't know how Shaman does it. Normally I can't stand talking about….about my feelings in a group, or with anyone other than you. But it felt right this time. I didn't have a problem with it."

Scott and Jean then made themselves ready for bed. After brushing and flossing teeth, changing into their bedclothes and giving both sleeping children another kiss, they again sat down on the bed together.

Jean turned to Scott, suddenly sensing a negative emotion through their mindlink. It confused her----just moments ago he had been so serene and so resolute. But this unpleasant feeling had been lurking in his mind as well. "What is wrong, my love?" she asked.

He hesitated. "It's…it's nothing." Scott turned his away from her so she was no longer directly facing him.

Jean smiled and shook her head. "You know you can't hide anything from me," she teased. She then turned serious, placed a hand on his shoulder, and added, "Though if you don't want to share, it's alright with me." She respected his privacy and would never probe his mind if he did not wish it. However the thought that he might want to hide anything after such an amazing and open ceremony did surprise her somewhat.

"Well, it's just that…." he began, groping for the right words. "There was something at the ceremony and at Peter's funeral on Friday that bothered me," he finally said.

"What is that?" she asked gently. She kept her voice full of her caring for him though she also felt a hint of trepidation, as she had a suspicion as to what he was thinking of. She knew it was a matter that they did not see eye-to-eye on.

Scott crossed his arms over his chest. "Bobby and Northstar. That's what bothered me," he said. "Did you see the way they were holding hands all the time? They were practically doing it constantly, on the way to the ceremony and back. They don't need to touch each other in public like that. I mean, what are they trying to prove?? But what I saw at Peter's funeral bothered me even more, I think." Scott paused and went on. "I saw Northstar put his head on Bobby's shoulder and Bobby put his arm around him."

All the pleasant and calm sensations Jean had during and after the healing ceremony evaporated on the spot. She fought to hold on to her anger and softly asked, "Why does it bother you, Scott?"

"It bothers me that they do that in public. For goodness' sakes, save it for the bedroom and I don't have a problem with that. But why must they touch each other in public?!"

"Northstar was crying during the funeral, and Bobby was comforting him. There is nothing wrong with that. If I sat next to someone who was crying, I would try to comfort them too. And there's also nothing wrong with two people who care about each other holding hands." Jean tried to keep the edge out of her voice but knew she wasn't succeeding. She then felt the frustration rise in Scott.

"I don't know how you can say that. We've got two children now…..soon they'll be old enough to notice this and how are we going to explain this to them?" Scott was starting to feel a hint of anger at Jean for the fact that she didn't agree with him.

"Well, Scott, this is how I will explain it to them. I'll say that some men grow up and love other men, and some women grow up to love other women too, and it's part of our human diversity."

Scott took a deep breath, trying to beat down his ire. He knew both he and Jean were getting frustrated. "I would say the same thing as you, and I would add that if that's the case, those people shouldn't be harassed or mistreated. But I'll also add that it's just plain wrong and against the natural order of things."

"We already discussed this before. Who's to say what's 'natural' and what's not?" Jean asked, irritated at Scott. She realized that it had been a long, long time since she felt this much anger towards him. "People say the same thing about being a mutant----that it's not natural. But I know that it is and we were born this way."

Scott shook his head. "And I say homosexuality is much different than being a mutant. The comparison you're making doesn't quite fit." He continued, "I just don't like to see those two holding hands in public, like they're flaunting what they do in bed together. I don't even want to have to think about it."

"If it bothers you that much, then don't think about it," Jean said simply. She added, "And Scott, I say that they're not flaunting' it any more than you and I are flaunting our sex life when we touch in public!"

Scott just shook his head. "It's different," he said. "I can't quite say how, but it's different than when you and I touch in public. We're married. Our relationship is different."

"We held hands and touched in public long before we were ever married," Jean said. A thought then flew into her mind, one she had thought of before but never discussed with her husband. "What if someday, 18 years from now, one of our children comes to us and says that they're gay? What would you do then, Scott? Would you throw them out and tell them that you never wanted anything more to do with them, like Bobby's father did?"

"Never! That's not at all what I'm saying!" Scott said, in disbelief at his own anger. Why did Jean have to pollute this issue with this hypothetical scenario?

"Well then….what would you do?" Jean asked, glancing at the children. Neither had woken up though Scott's voice had been loud.  
  
"I prefer not to think about this," he said flatly.

"But you have to think about it. It could happen."

"Yeah, it could happen if they get exposed to this kind of stuff from Bobby and Northstar!" Scott said, throwing up his hands in exasperation.

Jean again took a deep breath, another of many she'd forced herself to take during this conversation. Again she struggled to keep her tone moderate. "That's close to ridiculous, Scott. People don't become gay by associating with others who are. If that were the case, you and Angel and Hank and I all would be homosexuals since we've known Bobby for so long." There was a pause as both searched for the right way to voice what was on their minds. "So answer my question," Jean probed, gently. "What would you do if Charlotte tells us 16 years from now that she has feelings for another girl and thinks that she's a lesbian?"

"What would you do?" Scott asked, admitting defeat to himself; he truly had no idea what he would do or say. The possibility was too horrible to contemplate.

"I would tell her I love her and accept her no matter what," Jean said firmly.

"Okay. I would tell her the same. You know I'm telling the truth. I love our children no matter what they become or decide to do with their lives," Scott replied, glad to leave that topic settled for now. "But….but that's too far out there. I don't want to have to think about any of this and this isn't the issue at hand. I don't know why you even brought this up. The issue I'm talking about is….is what those two are doing in public."

"Those two'?" Jean echoed. "What a way to refer to your brother." Jean shook her head and sounded far away. The emotions she had following the ceremony suddenly came back to her, replacing much of her animosity. "That's what I came away from after the ceremony today----all of us X-men are brothers and sisters. There were only 20 of us at that ceremony and, after losing so many, we're really all that's left of the team. Just 20 people to stand against the empire that is FOH." Somberly dwelling on that thought, Jean unexpectedly had no more desire to argue with her husband. This truly was all that was left of the X-men and they were failing to recruit any new mutants to the team as well. The forces that opposed them---and imprisoned their fellow mutants back on earth----were so mighty. So many X-men had been killed or had left the team. The group couldn't afford to be torn apart by disagreements.

Through their mindlink, Scott experienced some of Jean's feelings flooding into him as well. His desire to continue arguing was fading too. "Jean, I don't want to fight with you over this," he said mildly." Perhaps we just can't agree on something. For once," he added, with a smile.

"That might be the case, my love."

Scott wasn't ready to fully surrender the topic though. "It just disturbs me to see them touching in public like that," he muttered.

"Well, you remember what we discussed during the mediation with Todd. If it's acceptable for heterosexual couples to hold hands in public, then it is for gay couples too. I think the same thing goes for comforting someone when they are crying."

Scott nodded. "I guess you're right. I just don't like it, but I guess we can't tell people not to hold hands with each other. And we can't shelter Charlotte and Chris from the realities of the world either." He looked down at his hands and then looked back at Jean. "We can try to teach them right from wrong though."

"Do we also teach them that Mom and Dad disagree sometimes on what is right and what is wrong?" Jean asked, as much to herself as to Scott.

Scott was as stumped as Jean. "I don't know," he said quietly. "Maybe we do. But at least it would mean that we're talking with them instead of ignoring things."

Jean nodded. "Talking is always better than leaving it alone. Ignoring something that makes you uncomfortable is probably the worst thing you can do and kids will pick up on it right away. They need a lot of communication." It was late in the night now, and this was probably as much closure as they would come to tonight. They were finished with this subject for now, but Jean knew full well it would surface again.

The two turned down the covers and climbed under them. Scott pressed a button to shut off the nightlight. "Did you know that Dani Moonstar is a lesbian?" Jean asked, as she felt Scott's arm go around her.

"Really? Dani?" he stuttered. "That incredible….that gifted woman who plays and sings so well?" Scott was as taken in with her music---and her decision to work and train with the X-men---- as everyone else.

"Really."

Scott yawned and closed his eyes. He was done thinking about this distasteful topic for the night. "Whatever."

Chapter 18

Chapter 20 


	20. Chapter 20

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 20

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 20

Charles Xavier's hoverchair sat near one of the lakes on An'zhina. Despite the chilly day, he enjoyed being outdoors and experiencing the land on this moon. So far away from earth,' he mused. So far from the world I tried so hard to make a difference in.' Though it was still very early in the morning, Charles felt no fatigue. The healing ceremony of the previous evening had invigorated him. Somehow he knew his mind was on the road towards peace though his body still felt the fatigue.

His contemplation was interrupted when he sensed two of his students approaching. Of course the word "student" never fully encapsulated what they meant to him, but it would do for now.

"Hello, Professor," Jean's voice called

Charles turned and faced Jean and Scott. "You've decided to go on the next mission," he stated.

Scott smiled. "Whatever happened to not probing people's minds without their okay?" he asked, though he was not at all angry, and both Charles and Jean knew it. He voiced only his confusion at Charles's action.

"The thought was running so strongly through both of you that I sensed it right away," the Professor explained. "I know you both will do well and help make this mission a success."

"We will, Charles," Jean said, her voice soft but resolute.

"Make this one count." Xavier implored. "Make this one of the X-men's last such missions to earth."

Later that day, Cyclops called a meeting of the X-men. The conference room they had selected was nearly full with all of the members of the X-men present, along with the two other mutants who had been voted as representatives to the rest of the An'zhinans, Erica and Yunfei.

"And so that's what we've decided," Cyclops was telling the group. "I think it's a win for everyone---the Professor can continue getting the rest he needs, and Jean will use her powers to shift the situation on earth."

In Storm's mind, some of the placidity she had gained from the healing ceremony last night started to dissolve. "I am glad to hear of this plan," she said, her voice loud and strong, easily carrying through the filled room. "I agree that it has the potential to enact quite a bit of change on earth. However," she began again, and those who knew her well could've detected from the look on her face that a however' was on its way from the second she opened her mouth, "I am both surprised and angered that I did not know of this decision. I am co-leader of the X-men and it distresses me that this was not discussed with me."

A low rumble could be heard throughout the room. Was Cyclops trying to regress to the days when he was the group's sole field leader with Storm clearly the second-in-command?

Or was Storm overreacting? If so, that was quite unlike her. There had been minor friction between the two leaders in the past….was it resurfacing?

The Professor spoke, "Storm, I assure you that no offense was intended----either from Cyclops and Jean or myself. We reached this decision about an hour or two ago. We wanted to let everyone know at once."

Cyclops was confused. Why was she acting as if she'd been trespassed against? Earlier that morning, the three of them could have first called a meeting of the field commanders and discussed the decision, but it would have been very inefficient and bureaucratic. Besides, what was there to discuss and debate? He and Jean were going, and that was that.

"We weren't trying to keep anything from you," Jean said, desperately hoping Storm would understand. "Scott and I only began discussing this in earnest a few days ago."

Storm nodded. "I see. Well, whatever the case, as I said I am glad you will be accompanying us on our next mission." Her voice carried a hint of finality and she was alright with leaving it at that for now.

"I think this mission can really make a difference," the Professor said, "as Scott said. My hope is that enough minds can be changed to make this one of the last missions to earth."

"So when we gonna leave?" Rogue asked.

Beast and the Professor exchanged a look. Hank then held Panda's hand and said to the group, looking at her, "Our wedding is scheduled for Saturday. Five days from now. Perhaps we can leave shortly after that."

"What about Monday?" Storm suggested. "A week from today. If I've been keeping track correctly, it would mean the total amount of time we've spent here between missions was just less than four weeks."

"People sure can't call us slackers then," Bobby said. "Four weeks isn't an excessive amount of time or anything, and we needed at least that to recover."

Many nodded their heads at his words. Bobby's teammates were glad to hear him speaking out in meetings and looking more engaged in their happenings. Northstar was present at this meeting too, the first one he'd attended since their return from the mission. The rest of the group was glad to see them both apparently doing much better.

"Between now and Monday," Cyclops said, addressing the whole group, "please decide whether or not you will be joining us on the mission. We won't need as full of a crew as usual since we're not beaming to the surface and won't be engaging in hand-to-hand combat with any FOH soldiers."

"Though it still would be good to have a strong, full team," Storm said. "We shall take many precautions but still….we can never know exactly what to expect."

"This next mission will be a success," the Professor said. "I wish that I could join you, but it is better that I remain here. I know you will not fail."

Shortly after the meeting, Jubilee and Storm were taking a walk with Jubilee's daughter Aurora. Rory wanted to hold "Aunt Storm's" hand, but Storm was too tall to walk while holding the hand of the young child. She reached for the girl and scooped her up in her arms. They walked on one of the dirt trails astride the heavily forested area.

"I'm going on that mission," Jubilee stated. "I'm an X-man. And if it's safe enough for Jean and Scott to go and bring their kids, then it's safe enough for her too," she said, gesturing at Rory. At just over two years old, Aurora resembled her mother in so many ways----she had Jubilee's youthful, sprightly personality and bore a physical resemblance to her as well. Whatever her exact mutation was, unlike that of Charlotte, it had yet to manifest itself.

"You might be right," Storm said.

"I mean, I went on the X-men's second-ever trip to earth. And----" Jubilee abruptly stopped herself. "I was just about to say and everything turned out okay then'….but that was the mission where Wolvie, Bobby, and Gambit were captured and taken to that mining colony. We're so lucky we got them back safe."

"It is truly amazing the number of times we X-men have escaped death," Storm mused. She then almost wished to retract those words. Peter, obviously, had not escaped last time. She changed the topic, "You're certain of this decision?"

"Yes," Jubilee said firmly. "Besides, Rory would never forgive me if she and Charlotte were to be separated. They play together all the time."

The three reached a bench which sat aside the walking trail and decided to take a break there. They sat down, and Jubilee reached inside the pack she carried, taking out a juice box for Rory. "Ju ju," the toddler gestured, eagerly awaiting her orange juice.

"Here you go, sweetie-pie," Jubilee said, holding Rory in her lap and then bringing the girl's juice box to her lips. Rory took the juice and drank.

Meanwhile, Wolverine had been enjoying some alone time inside the depths of the forest. He heard and then smelt the three approaching. Not wanting to be disturbed, Wolverine moved further inside the thick of the trees. He was out of visual range, but his enhanced hearing allowed him to hear Storm and Jubilee crystal clear. Though he did not want to eavesdrop, he also found himself interested in listening to what these two beloved women would say.

"I will miss some of the people I've been working with here," Jubilee said.

"I hear you are doing an excellent job as a trainer. And as a counselor," Storm told her. "Everyone---Jean, Banshee, Moira, Cyclops---are all very pleased with the work you have been doing."

Jubilee glowed at the compliment. "Well, we'll only be gone for 10 weeks. That time will go by fast. And with the Professor staying here, I'm sure he and Banshee and Moira can manage to keep the place running without Cyke, Jean and me," Jubilee said the last part half-jokingly; she and Storm certainly knew Xavier and the others would do just fine. "Besides, I could really use some time with the X-men and away from here."

Storm looked at her. "Is it because of Lisman?" she asked.

"Yeah, partially" Jubilee said, her voice still seared with the anger and disappointment. "I don't know why with over 320 people living here, I keep running into him and Siryn holding hands or making out in public all the time. I swear they're doing it to piss me off! Just the other day, we were in a class that Cyclops and I were leading and there were the two of them, totally making out in the back of the room! Siryn is on his lap and they're slobbering all over each other. And Cyke does nothing. What was I supposed to do??"

"I'm sorry, Jubilee," Storm said. "How awkward it must have been for you. Truly Lisman did not deserve you."

Jubilee shook her head. "Yeah and if he ever comes crawling back to me on his hands and knees, I'll tell him where he can go!"

"Good for you!" Storm said, encouragingly.

At that point, Wolverine decided to give Jubilee and Storm their privacy and he retreated further into the forest, now out of earshot. He wanted to hear no more of their conversation.

Jubilee had changed the subject. "I want to learn how to play the flute as well as you. I think it's incredible how well you play."

"Dani Moonstar is a great teacher. I'm sure if you ask her, she'll teach you. During the weeks to and from earth, you will have plenty of time, too."

Jubilee shook her head. "That Dani seems pretty amazing. I've been talking to her at lunch and dinner, and after training sessions a bit."

"What's your perception of her, in terms of her serving as an X-man?"

Jubilee glowed with pride just over the fact that Storm asked this opinion of her. So used to being treated as a child, Jubilee relished the times she was treated as a team member and was asked for her opinion. Storm noticed Jubilee's eyes shine a bit and a hint of color appear on the young woman's cheeks; she knew her question had had the desired effect.

"I think she'll be great. Her mutation is really powerful. She's not an experienced fighter but she seems to be learning well," Jubilee said, trying to sound professional yet still like herself too. "And given the nature of her powers, she probably doesn't need as much hand-to-hand fighting skills since it's like she can work from some distance."

"I agree," Storm said.

"You know," Jubilee began, her voice now sounding contemplative, "she said one thing that made me….made me think. I was asking her one day about her experience at the FOH camps. I brought it up 'cause she seemed to be like the least traumatized camp survivor we've seen, I think. She just shrugged and said she was at a camp for a few weeks and that she's basically okay. I asked her if she wanted to talk or anything but she brushed it off."

"Everyone reacts differently to such an event. I think Moonstar uses her music to help her. Most cultures do accept talking about the pain as a way to recover, but it is not for everyone."

"I know, I know. But…ya see, I feel bad about something. Like, after what the soldiers did to me---to us---I was practically comatose for days. I couldn't function. And we were tortured by them for only a few days." She then paused and wryly repeated, "'Only.' Like it made it any worse that it was 'only' for four days. They felt more like a month." She paused and continued, "But Dani was there for a few weeks, not days, and she's….she's more or less okay. She didn't go through a stage like I did."

"Jubilee," Storm began, "you are not feeling embarrassed that it took you longer to recover than it took her, are you?"

Since Aurora was finished drinking, Jubilee packed up the girl's drink cup and wiped her face with a tissue before she answered Storm. "I dunno. I guess a little," she admitted.

Storm reached over and put an arm around Jubilee. "It is not a sign of weakness in you, Jubilee," she said firmly. "No one would look at what happened and think that you were weaker for it."

"Really?" Jubilee asked.

"I am certain of it. And I know you are a strong woman, a mature woman. What we lived through was awful enough----please don't feel bad about the method or the time it took for you to recover. As I said, we are all different and everyone heals differently. Your mind shut down for a bit during what happened and that was its coping mechanism to get you to survive the experience. We each cope and survive differently. You survived it and are stronger now----that's what counts. The amount of time it took for you to recover is irrelevant."

Jubilee raised her head and looked at Storm. "What about you, Storm? You're always taking care of everyone else. How do you heal?"

Storm somehow knew what Jubilee was alluding to. "I pray to the Goddess. She helps me. The healing ceremonies the four of us held helped a great deal also, as does working with the camp survivors and aiding them." Storm paused. "Did you know that FOH raped me again this last time we were prisoners?"

"Yes," Jubilee acknowledged. Storm had not told her---nor anyone, really---of what had occurred. "I hope you don't think I'm like gossiping or anything," Jubilee quickly added. "Rory and I were having lunch with Rogue and Gambit one day and I asked them for more details on your last mission. They mentioned it. Rogue didn't think you'd have a problem with her saying so, since we all agreed it wasn't anything to be embarrassed about. And they were concerned because they said you never seemed to talk about it with anyone, even though they said they'd both asked you several times."

Storm smiled. "I am not at all angry at you for bringing this up," she said truthfully. "As you, and Rogue and Gambit said, I do not mind others knowing what happened since I did not do anything wrong." Her voice was steady and calm as always.

"That's good." Jubilee said. "So, like, you know you could talk to me or Rogue or anyone if you needed to?"

"Of course I know," Storm said warmly. "And I thank you for the offer. There might come the day when I take you up on your offer."

Jubilee nodded and smiled, but she doubted that day would ever really surface.

Rogue wouldn't call it snoring. Not exactly. Gambit occasionally made some sort of noise when he slept…it was perhaps somewhere between a wheeze and a light snore. Rogue usually found it adorable.

"If it ever bother you, chere," he had said a long time ago, when they had first begun to share a bed, "jus' turn Gambit over. Dat usually enough to get me to stop----at leas' dat's what I been told. Your strength be a good t'ing so you have no trouble turnin' me."

This night, however, she'd turned him once already but a new round of snoring had ensued. Rogue heard a lot of it that night because she couldn't seem to make herself fall asleep. Sleep generally wasn't a problem for her but tonight was an exception. All of the gentle and sedate feelings she had taken away from Shaman's healing ceremony two days ago, however, were gone now.

Why am I obsessing over this?' she asked herself. What does it matter? It's all in the past now anyway. I just need to get over it.' She repeated this to herself several times yet the thought that was eating away at her kept returning. She did not deem it serious enough to bother Storm at this hour and she wasn't really in what she'd term serious emotional distress though. So Rogue kept telling herself she could handle it and tried to just make herself fall asleep.

Another indeterminate amount of time passed and she was no closer to sleep. Rogue glanced at the clock and then decided to take advantage of something she could do on An'zhina but not on board Freedom. She rose from the bed, wrapped Gambit's worn but cozy duster around her, opened the window and flew off.

It was quite cold this time of year on An'zhina but tolerable to Rogue. The wind rushing her face, her hair flowing, she adored the thrill she got from flying in open space. Flying around the gym on board Freedom didn't quite compare. She inhaled and detected Gambit's scent lingering on the duster she wore. With her mind feeling more clear now, Rogue could think.

'You're bein' awful childish, girl,' she told herself. You gotta let bygones by bygones. That's kinda what Storm would tell ya.'

The negative feeling had started earlier that same evening. She and Gambit had finished making love, and were cuddling together. Then Rogue had unthinkingly asked a question. "Where didja ever learn to be so incredibly good at this, sugar?"

Gambit had chuckled, his ego stoked. He knew Rogue enjoyed their lovemaking ---she was usually quite vocal----but it never hurt to be told he was good too. However, just as Rogue had unthinkingly asked her question, Gambit's reply had been equally heedless. "Lots of experience, chere," he'd said, smiling. However, the instant the words were out of his mouth, he had regretted them.

"How much experience, Remy?" Rogue had asked, feigning mere curiosity.

Shit,' Gambit had thought to himself. He knew she hated to hear about his past loves. "A fair amount," he muttered, his eyes not meeting hers.

"Well, how much?" Rogue had pursued, attempting to put a lighthearted smile in her voice. Gambit had continued to answer with vagueness, and Rogue continued to try to pretend the matter was of no import to her and that it was only curiosity.

"If you just curious, can't we jus' leave it alone?" he had asked, his patience thinning and the heavenly mood their lovemaking created now dissipated. Gambit put a lot of energy and passion into sex and generally wanted to spoon with Rogue and fall asleep afterwards. He was exhausted and wanted to get some rest, not face an inquisition about things he did before he ever met her.

"I just want to know," Rogue insisted. "I got a bee in my bonnet about this and I gotta know. What's the big secret?? I know you had lots of women but I just wanna know like how many is 'a lot.'" Upon receiving no sufficient answer, Rogue then attempted to pin him down to a range. "Okay, tell me when I get the numbers of your past women within 20, okay?" Without waiting for an affirmative, she went ahead, "Twenty or under? Twenty to forty? Forty to sixty? Sixty to---"

"Chere, Gambit not gonna answer, okay?!" he stated, coming off more harsh than he'd intended.

"Why not??" she'd asked, her voice pleading. She wasn't angry--- just, for an unknown reason, seized with a desire to get this question answered. "C'mon, Remy, just answer the question! I just wanna know. I told you all this stuff about my past. I just wanna know bout yours too."

Gambit sighed. "If I tell you, you not gonna get down on me bout dis, okay?" he asked.

Rogue smiled, knowing she'd won. "I promise. It doesn't matter to me."

"Okay," a very tired Gambit said, giving in. "We be talkin' probably somewhere between 60 and 100."

So Rogue had gotten the answer she'd demanded and now she didn't like it one bit. As she flew around An'zhina that night, Gambit sound asleep, several thoughts swirled around her mind. Where'd he even get time for 100 different women??' And the thought that reoccurred over and over, 'Does this mean someday he's gonna cheat on me?' Now that Rogue had recalled most of her hidden childhood, random memories would spring forward from her subconscious at times. She recalled her divorced Aunt (with whom she lived for a time after her mother passed away) saying things like, "If he's got legs, he's gonna cheat on ya."

The negative thoughts continued their rampage through Rogue's mind. At some point, the cold air started to get to her and, bored with flying for now, she longed for the warmth of her bed. She flew back inside and snuggled next to Remy, with both comforting and disturbing thoughts in her head.

Hank and Panda's wedding was approaching rapidly, as was the Monday we X-men would depart for our next mission to earth. Jean-Paul and I had decided to go on the mission, as had Jeanne-Marie. We felt we had to and we wanted to. We were all X-men. An'zhina was beautiful and all but if we were needed on a mission, it was our duty to be there. Whatever we could do to help change earth.

On this particular day, just a few days before the wedding, we actually had rain on An'zhina, along with one of the coldest and windiest days I'd ever seen on this gorgeous moon. Very seldom did a day pass without the sun making an appearance, but today was one of those days. I'm sure that Storm would've intervened had the wind turned hazardous, but we were in no danger. It was just not a day that most people wanted to hang out in the outdoors much. During the midday, Jean-Paul and I were working out in the gym, enjoying all the comforts of being indoors.

Things with Jean-Paul were continuing to get much, much better. He was back to being himself again….in some ways he maybe was a bit better than he had been before, even. We were very close. We talked more and we also slept in the same bed. On this particular day, though, he cut his workout short to go spend some time flying with his sister. They wanted to do another aerial tour of An'zhina before the next mission. They could easily deal with the wind and said the rain didn't bother them much. So Jean-Paul gave me a quick kiss on the mouth before departing the gym. I remained, continuing to exercise.

I was lifting weights. I knew I'd never be as brawny as most of the other X-men and certainly not to the extent Jean-Paul was but I figured that I could try, right? I certainly had way more definition than I ever had before in my life. There were a few treadmills not far from where I was working out. I looked up at one point and noticed that my favorite person was now walking on one of the treadmills. Todd.

After not long, Todd struck up a conversation with the guy on the treadmill next to him. I don't recall the guy's name; he was one of the Chinese ones. (There were over 300 people in addition to the X-men on An'zhina and I just didn't have the time to get to know each one or remember all the names. Besides, maybe I was not being sociable but I tended to spend most of my time with Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie, Jubilee and her daughter, Moonstar, Hank and Panda, and Rogue and Gambit. I had other friends but these were my closest ones.)

Anyway, I didn't hear most of Todd's conversation with the guy. From what I could tell, it mostly consisted of Todd talking and the other guy muttering words of agreement. However, Todd made sure he said one part loud and clear; the words were spoken at a much higher decibel than any of his other sentences had been. He said, "You know, I'm still not crazy about being a mutant, but it's okay. I've come to accept it and I tell myself that things could always be worse. You know, at least I'm no goddamned faggot." He then went on to loudly tell a gay joke. The joke was gross and nasty, and other guy laughed.

I froze when I heard all of that, putting down my weights. I was so angry. I contemplated doing a number of things, like throwing my weights at Todd, practicing my karate on him, or using my powers and turning him into a frozen dinner. But I then told myself those things would just result in another mediation---and violence wasn't the right way to solve it anyway. Next I considered going up to him and talking about what he said. But then a wave of fear washed over me. No….no, it wasn't fear. I guess it was shame. I felt like I was taken back to being a fifteen year old on the playground, hearing all the other guys insult each other by calling them "faggot" and "homo" as I felt such intense self-hatred. I'm supposed to be over that by now,' I told myself. By the time I was done debating with myself on what to do, I turned towards the treadmills and saw that Todd was gone.

I heard someone approach me and I turned to face them. Suddenly, both Storm and Wolverine were before me. "Is he bothering you?" Storm asked.

They had been working out separately but not far from me. With Wolverine's enhanced hearing, I'm sure he had easily heard Todd. And everyone knew about the situation with Todd, Jean-Paul and I. The rumor mill had been fully functioning since the mediation months ago (and since well before then, too.)

"Well, n-no. I mean, not really. Well, kinda maybe." Okay, that was lame.

"Which is it?" Wolverine asked bluntly. He didn't look pleased but I thought—and hoped---his ticked-off look was because of Todd. I sure couldn't think of anything I'd done to deserve it and deduced it had to have been because of Todd.

I composed myself and shrugged. "Todd's been doing and saying little things like that ever since he knew Northstar and I were gay. I don't know what to do. If I tell Jean-Paul, he'll just go and beat the shit out of him and we'll wind up in another mediation. I can't talk to Todd himself because I don't think there's any reasoning with him on this----besides, he'll scream in fear if I approach him. He does little stuff like that all the time----I guess to provoke me. I'm not going to take the bait."

Wolverine said, "Look, if he ever gets to be a problem, let us know."

Storm nodded and reinforced with Wolverine said. I thanked them and then we each went back to what we'd been doing.

I decided not to share this incident with Jean-Paul. He had enough on his mind. Besides, what I'd told Storm and Wolverine was accurate. I'm sure he would've found a way to enact revenge on Todd, a way that surely would have gotten both of them in trouble. I wanted Jean-Paul to stay focussed on the positive and on recovering.

After the incident with Bobby and Todd in the gym, Storm and Wolverine turned and found themselves facing each other. Bobby had gone back over towards the weights he was lifting. It had been mere coincidence that Storm and Wolverine had ended up working out near each other that day; Wolverine had been surprised when he'd caught her scent entering the gym. And now, standing before her, he felt oddly tongue-tied.

"I think that Todd says and does some really inappropriate things," Storm said awkwardly. She found herself not wanting to look away from her former lover, wanting to keep him near her and look at him, talk to him. She just didn't know what to say and therefore voiced the first thing that came to her mind. Inwardly she flinched, knowing full well that Wolverine was one of the only people in the galaxy who could reduce her to this verbal clumsiness.

"Yeah," Wolverine said. "He ain't been doin' much to train either. Cyke said Todd wanted to work with him just long enough to get his invisibility under control and soon as he had it, he stopped."

"It is a pity that we cannot recruit more X-men. Of course we had that problem on earth too," Storm mused.

"Seems everyone would rather sit on their ass and enjoy life here rather than work." As he spoke, his eyes seemed focussed elsewhere for a moment, on the entrance to the gym.

"Indeed." Storm turned her head to follow Wolverine's gaze, and she saw Sara Grey and Warren Worthington entering the gym together, holding hands. She remembered the words she'd said to Logan: if it didn't work out with Sara, Storm would gladly take him back. No,' Storm told herself. The offer has been made and I am not going to beg.' She turned back to Logan and for a second, thought she might have seen something in his eyes. It is probably meant for Sara,' Storm told herself.

She then excused herself and resumed her workout. Wolverine did not pursue, quietly going back to his own.

"So, is a marriage performed on An'zhina legal?" the former FOH soldier Mark asked Hector Rendoza over lunch the day before Hank and Panda's wedding.

Hector shrugged. "On An'zhina it is."

"But back on earth it probably wouldn't be," Mark said.

"Well it sure doesn't look like anyone's going back to settling on earth anytime soon. Especially not two people who look like the bride and groom. Or someone who looks like me," Hector added.

Mark knew better than to mutter any sort of platitude about Hector looking just fine. Instead he shocked Wraith with a question. "Do you think they'd let me go on the next mission?"

"What??" Hector asked, disbelieving his ears for a moment.

"I know it sounds crazy. But I would really like to go along with you X-men on this mission you're leaving for on Monday."

"But you know you can't go back to earth, Mark. Unless you want to be on the run forever. I'm sure the FOH will find you and track you down, and kill you as a traitor. Or worse. But anyway, in case you haven't heard, the plan isn't for the X-men --- us X-men--- to beam anyone up or down from earth. In fact, we're probably going to hang back a few days from the planet."

"I know. You mentioned that to me before. But Hector, I'm not trying to return to earth. I want to go on the mission."

"Why?"

"I want to help out---in any way that I can," Mark said, his voice carrying a hint of fervor. "I've mistreated mutants in my life. I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of to mutants…to your people, Hector! I want to do something to help make it right. Raking leaves and washing dishes on An'zhina was nice but it didn't really help mutantkind. I want to do more."

Wraith listened to his friend, nodding. Poor Mark,' he thought. He wants to belong. Doesn't everyone?' he mused, thinking about his own reasons for joining the X-men. Hector definitely hadn't joined because the thought of perilous missions and rigorous training appealed to him.

A few hours later, Mark met with the Professor. Following that, Mark and the Professor met with Cyclops, Storm, Jean, and the three X-men field commanders. They discussed Mark's request at length and he reiterated his reasons for wanting to assist on the mission. Once Mark left the room, both Xavier and Jean stated that they were completely certain that Mark's intentions were honest and he had no hidden agenda.

The decision was made to allow him on the next mission and train him on bridge duty and other essential ship functions.

"You are one lucky woman! What do you mean no morning sickness??"

Jubilee spoke the words incredulously to Panda on the day of the wedding as the three prepared for the ceremony. Panda had just finished reiterating to Jubilee and Jean that, amazingly, she had felt no morning sickness nor had her pregnancy really caused her anything other than minor discomfort so far. The three had discussed this topic before and both of the mothers were still surprised at Panda's ease to this point.

"Sometimes I think I could almost forget that I'm pregnant," Panda had laughed.

"You might feel more of the standard discomfort as you progress," Jean said to her.

"I know. Moira MacTaggert says so, anyway." Panda laughed. "She was so cute the other day when she was offering me some tips about pregnancy and childbirth. She patted my side and said, Lass, you have the hips for childbearing. It shouldna be a problem for you at all.'" Panda imitated Moira's lilting accent best she could.

Jean and Jubilee smiled along with Panda at Moira's words, and Panda tried to hide the twinge of hurt she felt. Look at me,' she thought. I'm surrounded by so many beautiful women – like my two bridesmaids right here---and I'm such an ugly duckling, wide hips, furry face, and all.' Then she made herself stop that train of thought. I'm not going to feel sorry for myself! Hank thinks I'm beautiful and I'm so lucky to have him. And we'll be raising a baby together. Jubilee doesn't have anyone and she has to raise her daughter by herself.' Panda shook her head. Knock it off,' she said to herself, Mom always used to say don't compare yourself to others since it doesn't do any good, and just be glad for what you have.'

Jean and Jubilee were Panda's bridesmaids. When she and Hank had sat down to choose their wedding party, they had deliberated for quite a while. Hank was friends with most of the X-men and had a great deal of trouble narrowing his selection of groomsmen down. Meanwhile Panda was certainly on friendly terms with the X-women but she had nowhere near the number of close friends as Hank. Eventually the couple decided that the bridal party would consist of all the original X-men----Cyclops, Angel, Bobby, and Jean. As Hank was one of the originals, they liked that arrangement best. However, they also asked two others to join the bridal party---Wolverine (because he and Hank had bonded over the years) and Jubilee (partly because she and Panda were the same age and enjoyed each other's company, and partly so Jean would not be the only bridesmaid.) It meant there would be an uneven number of groomsmen and bridesmaids, but as Hank had said, "It hardly matters---we are certainly an unconventional couple as it stands." Bobby had already been selected as best man, and both young girls Aurora and Charlotte would reprise their roles as flower girls, along with Shaman's daughter Lily Pearl.

The ceremony would be performed by Professor Xavier. As neither Hank nor Panda were religious (in fact, both were agnostics) they felt it would be hypocritical to ask Kurt to perform the wedding, and instead opted for a secular ceremony. Xavier said he was honored at being asked to officiate.

Jubilee had been quite flattered when Panda asked her to be in the party, but one saying had flashed through her mind: "Always a bridesmaid, never a bride." So true,' Jubilee said to herself.

"There you go," Jean said. She had just finished securing Panda's wedding veil on. Panda was an easy bride to prepare, as she wore no make-up (it never mixed well with the fur that covered her face) nor was it necessary to do anything with the hair on her head (as her entire body was covered with fur and, like a real panda bear, the hair on her head wasn't particularly longer than the pelt anywhere else.) "Now go take a look at your beautiful self in the mirror," she said, ushering Panda to the full-length reflection.

Panda smiled at the reflection. "Well, I look like an upright panda bear in a yards of white fabric," she joked. The bride was too early in her pregnancy to be "showing" yet, though her belly was naturally rounded anyway. Oh, to heck with it!' Panda thought. 'I might not be beautiful like Jean or Jubilee but maybe if I didn't look this way, Hank and I probably would never have gotten so close. Our appearance helped bring us together and, in that case, it's a blessing!'

"Panda!" Jean exclaimed. She knew that behind Panda's self-depreciating humor was some genuine hurt. It didn't take a telepath to pick up on that occasionally. "Well, I say you look beautiful."

"I do too!" Jubilee piped up, though deep down she was quite glad that she had her own mutation and not Panda's. Still, Jubilee did sincerely think Panda looked beautiful in her own unique way.

Rogue and Gambit scrambled to prepare for the ceremony. The wedding was being held late in the morning, and both had been up quite late the night before and had lingered in bed too long that morning.

"I can't believe how late we're runnin'!" Rogue said, as she stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel to dry herself. "Hank would have our heads if we were in the weddin' party!"

"T'ank goodness we not in the party. But don' worry----we make it, chere," Gambit said calmly. "Got fifteen minutes."

"Holy shit! We gotta haul ass."

Gambit stood before the steamed bathroom mirror, shaving and clad in a towel. Upon seeing Rogue emerge from the shower, he gazed at her nude form out of the corner of his eye. Rogue bent to dry her legs, her plump breasts in tantalizing view. Gambit set his razor down and smiled as felt himself begin to stiffen and swell.

"No, Swamp Rat!" Rogue said, understanding full well the look in his eyes. The look was enough to excite her and she began to feel stirrings, but she knew they had no time for an erotic encounter now. "Don't even think it!"

"C'mon, chere," Gambit said, low and seductively. His eyes looked her up and down and he made a show of licking his lips. "We got time."

Rogue went up to her husband and touched a hand to his shoulder. "After the ceremony," she whispered. "We'll go right back here and do it. Let's wait till then, sugar. It'll be all the more better."

"Okay," Gambit sighed. He reached for and kissed the hand she'd laid on his shoulder, knowing she was probably right. Were they to finish getting ready now, they could still arrive at the wedding on time. Were they to make love, they would be late---no doubt about it, especially since Remy liked to take his time. Arriving so late would be quite disrespectful to a beloved friend as Hank. "Afterwards den we come back here and Gambit gonna make you feel so good," he murmured. He reached for her breasts and, taking one in hand, bent to kiss a rosy nipple.

Rogue reached around to briskly slap his rear, and then forced herself to back away. "I ain't surprised you had 100 different women, Mr. Suave," she said, bemused.

As Gambit looked at her face, he again saw a flash of something that had been bothering him for a few days. He detected that she was a twinge mad at him over something. It was unlike Rogue to not tell someone if she were angry---in fact, she'd usually tell them right away----yet she wasn't communicating it with him now. Gambit again wondered if perhaps he was misreading what he occasionally saw in her features. But I know her for so long,' he thought. She be jus' a bit mad at Remy and I wish I knew why.'

Both Rogue and Gambit fought back their arousal, finished preparing and took their seats at the ceremony in the nick of time. As the wedding march began, Rogue noticed a small patch of shaving cream still on Gambit's face and deftly wiped it away.

Back in their room, the portrait frame that Peter Rasputin had given them for their wedding was stashed inside a closet. Colossus's wedding gift to the two had been the promise of a painting of the couple, and he had bestowed a frame upon them until the three had the time to sit down and make the painting happen. Colossus had never had the chance. When Rogue and Gambit returned from the last mission, Gambit had painfully moved the portrait into a closet. During Hank and Panda's wedding ceremony, Gambit remembered the gift and felt another stab of hurt for his fallen comrade.

Wow, my second time in a wedding ceremony and my first time being best man! I really was honored. As us groomsmen got prepared, Hank looked very happy but taking it all in stride.

There was some tension in the room as Hank, Angel, Cyclops, Wolverine and I put the finishing touches on our tuxedos. There was no love lost between Wolverine and Angel, and I knew it had to do with one Sara Grey. (Since Jean-Paul had been recovering, I had been getting back into paying attention to what was going on with my teammates and Jubilee one day filled me in on this triangle.) I think Wolverine was doing his best, out of respect for Hank, to mask his feelings though. I suppose I don't need to add that he and Cyclops weren't acting as best buddies either. But again, we all respected Hank so much that everyone was civil. I kept trying to crack jokes and keep everyone upbeat which I think Hank appreciated. And I think Hank sincerely was elated to be marrying; he was not allowing the squabbling of the others guys to get him down.

The ceremony was quite similar to Rogue and Remy's. The wedding was held outdoors, Storm having used her powers to turn a chilly, windy day into a gorgeous one with an overjoyed sun smiling down on us. I helped with the decorations and, if I say so myself, they looked lovely.

Both Hank and Panda read traditional vows, though Hank added poetry onto his. I got the words from the portion of the poem he read, and it was called "The Union of Two" by Haki R. Madhubuti. He read:

"Marriage is an art,  
created by the serious, enjoyed by the mature,  
watered with morning and evening promises.

Those who grow into love  
remain anchored  
like Egyptian architecture and seasonal flowers…

so that your nation will live and tell your stories accurately,  
you must be endless in your loving touch of each other,  
your unification is the message,  
continuance the answer."

So I thought that was really beautiful. Good choice, Hank! What else can I say about the ceremony? I got all teary-eyed after the bridal march when Panda reached Hank's side before the Professor. I turned my head to look at Jean-Paul sitting in the front row, and he blew me a kiss just as he had before Rogue and Gambit's wedding too. Even the Professor, performing the wedding, looked a tad choked up.

After the actual ceremony, Hank and Panda greeted all of the guests as they left the area where the ceremony had been held and made their way to the reception area. I hugged both Hank and Panda, and told Hank that I loved him. He said he loved me too.

The reception was much like the one at Rogue and Gambit's wedding. As music played in the background, most of the X-men were crammed together at one of the largest tables. During the meal, the Professor spoke up and said he wanted to toast the newlyweds. Our table fell quiet though the clamor and noise from the other tables continued. Xavier went on to give more of a speech then a toast, though. He first spoke about Panda, praising her for joining the X-men and her speed at acclimating to the team, her dedication, how quickly she learned things, her brilliance, etc. (For a second, I thought I'd love to get married to hear the Professor say things like that about me in public!) When he was done with Panda, he went on to deliver a ten-minute panegyric about Hank. (By the way, the word "panegyric" is not usually in my vocabulary but I heard our beloved Hank use it and decided to put it here.)

The Professor was awfully sentimental that evening. I guess it was because it was a wedding, and we'd just had Colossus's funeral and a great healing ceremony days beforehand. And he knew that in two days' time, most of the rest of his X-men would be heading back towards earth on the first return mission that wouldn't include him. So I guess it was a combination of all of those things, but when the Professor was done listing everything wonderful Hank had done in the last fifteen years (and Hank was blushing furiously by then), he then surveyed all of us X-men sitting at the table and said, "I love you all."

I hadn't expected anything like that and was quite surprised. He was usually not sentimental in that way; I think we all knew he loved us but he never verbalized it till then (at least never that I could remember, though I was away from the X-men for seven years.) Hank was seated at one side of the Professor, and Jubilee at the other. Jubilee simply leaned over the bulk of his hoverchair, said "We love you too," and placed a kiss on his cheek. Best as he could from the hoverchair, he returned her hug. Little Aurora, sitting next to her mom, observed the interaction and then scrambled onto the chair to hug the Professor too.

We then went on with our feasting. After the large group was done with the scrumptious dinner, we partied. As at Rogue and Gambit's wedding, a large area had been made into a dance floor, but there was ample room for people to sit around, talking and laughing if they didn't want to dance, as well. I just sat back against one of the sofas with my drink in hand, at one point watching Jubilee's daughter Aurora playing with Jean-Paul. The two were merrily rolling and tossing a coaster back and forth. Scott and Jean sat nearby, watching and little Charlotte especially seemed to enjoy observing. She squealed with glee several times as that coaster took to the air. Aurora noticed that the other child liked watching her toss the coaster, so she did it with more flair each time. Me, I was enjoying watching Jean-Paul's interactions. He was such a natural with the kids.

Hank and Panda kept the traditional tossing of the bridal bouquet and garter. When our deejay Russ implored all the single folk to get ready to catch, I was sobered up for a second. I remembered that at Rogue and Gambit's wedding, Jubilee had caught the bouquet and Colossus the garter. Since then, Jubilee had been dumped by this Lisman guy and Colossus had been killed. I'm not real superstitious, but I would not have been in a hurry to catch this time. At Hank and Panda's wedding, the bouquet was caught by Siryn. The guy who caught the garter was one of the rescuees from the first camp we liberated in England but I couldn't recall the man's name.

I noticed, by the way, that Storm watched from the sidelines; she made no attempt to get in the running for catching the bouquet. My eyes darted around and spotted Wolverine. He hadn't attempted to catch either, which really didn't surprise me one bit.

After the jubilation of Hank and Panda's nuptials, a night of passionate loving followed for many of the X-men. Rogue and Gambit finally were able to finish what they had started before the ceremony.

And, of course, the newlyweds. Hank carried Panda over the threshold of their room which was now decorated with gifts and adornments. Hank inspected the gifts, noting the ice sculpture Bobby made. He truly had honed his mutation into an art form now; the bestial couple in the ice sculpture bore a very good resemblance to the newlyweds. However, Panda deemed that her husband was spending entirely too much time pouring over the gifts, so she secured him by his bow tie and ushered him towards the bed.

The Grey family had several long and protracted conversations regarding who would be boarding Freedom for the next mission to earth. Scott and Jean looked at each other during the last discussion, each feeling a hint of awkwardness: Warren Worthington had joined the family for these talks. It's not that I'm not glad to have him…in the family, so to speak.Jean hastily assured Scott via their mindlink. Angel's a great guy. This will just take some getting used to, you know what I mean?

Scott sent a nod back through their mindlink. He then thought that it was scary how frequently the two of them agreed on everything.

"Dad, please," Jean implored her father. "We've discussed this part a million times. I am going on this mission. Period. End of discussion."

Elaine Grey looked at her husband. "You know when she has her mind made up like this, there's no stopping her," Elaine said.

"I know," John replied. "It just is hard to accept that we're finally reunited after so long, and now you're heading off on another one of these dangerous missions."

"I told you how safe this mission will be," Jean said, firmly though pleasantly. "Scott and I will be in no danger and neither will the kids. This will place us at far less risk than I was in during most of my years as an X-man on earth."

The family talked it through some more. John and Elaine at one point also insisted on coming with, but Jean convinced them that there would be little they could do to "protect" her and they likely were better off on An'zhina. John and Elaine eventually agreed. They weren't getting any younger and they had fallen in love with An'zhina just as most who'd been brought there were. They just hated the thought of parting from Jean when their reunion---after years separated---had only lasted a matter of weeks.

Sara then looked at her kids and at Angel. "We will be staying here," Sara said. "Though I hate having Joe separated from you, Scott, since you helped him so much" she added. Cyclops had been a huge help to his nephew in assisting Joe with controlling his power to see through objects. Given that Scott's own mutation impacted his eyes, he had a natural ability to convey what Joe needed to know to control his powers.

"Mom, I told you I got it down," Joe said. "Uncle Scott's been great and I got it all under control now." The preteen was thrilled at no longer needing to bandage up his eyes. He had also discovered a few illicit uses for his powers which were intriguing him.

"I love An'zhina," Gail piped up. "It's so cool that we're staying here."

Angel and Sara had, at one point, considered coming with the X-men on their mission. However Sara's children were dead-set against being cooped up in a cold starship for ten weeks, and Sara could hardly blame them. They fully deserved a vacation, after having spent so long back on earth, confined to the Grey's attic. Sara was not about to separate from her children, and Angel had no intentions of separating from Sara. He felt he'd easily earned a "vacation" of sorts given all his service to the X-men over the years. And Angel would be working with Banshee and Moira on the governance of An'zhina and training the new mutants. It would hardly be a vacation; there was always much to be done.

"I will miss you all," Jean said to her family. "But it will only be for about 10 weeks. And you'll all be safe here."

So the family had made their decisions. Angel and Sara then walked with Gail and Joe to the rec room, Angel with his arm around Sara. He was happier than he'd been in a long time. At last he found a woman who wanted to settle down and commit, not someone who just wanted to play around with his heart as Betsy had. Another plus about Sara was that she was not carrying around the trauma that all the female camp survivors experienced.

Gail and Joe were basically okay with Warren too; they were gradually warming towards him. If only I had all my riches back on earth!' Warren had mulled over. He could've showered them all with extravagant gifts, easily winning the children's adoration.

The only disheartening thing, Warren thought, would be that if he and Sara stayed together (and he sincerely hoped and thought they were in for a long-term relationship), he would have no children of his own. Sara had shared with him that she had experienced difficulty with both her pregnancies, and after Joe was born, her doctor had encouraged her to have a hysterectomy. So her childbearing days were over. Warren, however, wasn't dwelling on that now. He was merely glad to have found her, and at having been chosen over Wolverine

"Your skills are as strong as ever," Storm said to Gambit over a card game in the rec room. They had just finished a rigorous session in the Danger Room, during which Gambit had skillfully used his thief wiles to maneuver his way out of a complex situation. "Both as a fighter and as a thief."

"Why thank you, Storm," Gambit said, glowing at the praise. He loved Storm as one of his closest friends. She was the reason he joined the X-men and in some ways, he strove always to please her. "Can't believe we leavin' tomorrow already. But Gambit lookin' forward to it. Maybe we finally make some real change on earth."

Storm nodded, and Gambit continued, "But what's the deal wit' Mark coming with us??"

"It did surprise me," Storm admitted. "But during the meeting he had with the rest of the leadership, the Professor and Jean were certain his intentions were exactly as he stated."

"Gambit don't like it, Storm. What sort of good he really gonna do on board Freedom?"

"Well, we've been training him for bridge duty. He's learning it well, so it will likely mean one less shift for each of us. Since Angel is not coming on this mission, we could use another person for that station."

"I don't believe it when Rogue tell me after the meeting and I still don't believe it today. A Friends of Humanity solider in control of our bridge??" he asked incredulously. Gambit then added sarcastically, "Maybe when we get back to earth we see if Monsieur Sinister still alive and invite him to sit at the weapons station, eh?"

Storm smiled, almost a rare smirk. When Gambit asked her what she thought was so funny, she replied, "Your reaction is nearly identical to Wolverine's."

"Cept for de Cajun accent, huh?" Gambit quipped.

"Well, I will answer you the way Jean and Cyclops answered Wolverine. There is very little damage one man on the bridge can inflict that could not be remedied rather quickly. Besides, we are certain of his desire to help and that he means us absolutely no harm."

"Little damage he could inflict?" Gambit repeated, still not quite believing his ears. "What 'bout turning off the cloak, turning off life support, purging dilit'ium, or setting the damn ship on autodestruct?!"

"It takes more than one crewmember to turn off life support or set the ship on self-destruct," Storm said. She had held this argument before and knew how to reply. "If he attempted to do that, there are numerous alarms that will go off."

"Unless someone disable dem."

"You and I might be the only two who could quickly and easily disable the alarms without anyone noticing," she said to her fellow ex-thief. "Gambit, please don't worry," Storm implored. Gambit loved her voice----it was so rich and calm and mature. He always had liked it. "I am confident in this decision and confident that Mark wants to help. The Professor and Jean don't make mistakes about something like this. Mark is an ordinary human being with no ability to shield his thoughts from the two strongest telepaths in the galaxy. If there existed the slightest chance that Mark had any inkling in the back of his mind about hurting us, they would have detected it. We have nothing to fear."

"Whatever you say, Storm. Gambit t'ink dere be a lot better ways Mark can work off his guilt and we be jus' settin' ourselves up for trouble."

The two continued their card game in relative silence for a while longer. A handful of mutants had been in the rec room with them, but Gambit looked up and noticed that he and Storm were now alone. He used the opportunity to ask a question. "So you ever gonna tell us what be wrong wit' you, Storm?"

Storm didn't hide a frown. The question riled her---she had heard it too many times from Rogue, Jean and others---and she had no intentions of discussing her emotional state. "I suppose it is blatantly obvious what is wrong, and I appreciate that you care but I have no desire at all to discuss it." Her voice came through more acrid and irate than she had intended.

"Ouch," Gambit said.

"I'm sorry, Remy. I meant the words that I said but I didn't wish to hurt you."

So that was the end of that topic. Storm wasn't going to open up and Gambit would have to deal with it. Rogue had tried several times as well to reach Storm but Storm had no desire to share. It's so embarrassing,' Storm thought to herself. The Majestrix Windrider sitting around and pining over a man who obviously doesn't want her. A man who was rejected by another woman but who doesn't return to her. And absolutely everyone knows what's going on.'

"Okay, so we don't talk bout you. Dat's fine," Gambit said. "But can you tell me if you know why Rogue's mad at me?" he asked.

Storm raised an eyebrow. "It is not like Rogue to ever hold back or refrain from telling someone if she's angry."

"I know! But I can tell she be kinda mad at me….Not over anyt'ing big but she say and do little t'ings so dat I know she be sorta pissed bout somet'ing."

"Maybe you should ask her," Storm said.

"Don't you t'ink I have?" Gambit asked. Now it was his turn to come off more harsh than intended. His patience with the entire situation was, however, running thin. "She not tellin' me anyt'ing."

Storm stared intently at her cards, wishing the conversation hadn't gone down this path. Of course she knew why Rogue was upset and Gambit had to have known full well that Storm was the first person Rogue would come to. Why on earth did he put me in this awkward position?!'

Storm remembered well the conversation she and Rogue had had, just a few short days ago. Storm had advised Rogue to forget about Gambit's former lovers. You know that he loves you and you know that he will not betray you,' Storm had said. 'There is no reason to resent him for things he did before he ever met you.' Storm had gone on to tell Rogue that her first-ever lover ("so many years ago," Storm had wryly added) had been very experienced and that Storm appreciated it as it had made him a better lover.

Rogue had simply said that she felt bad for being down on Remy for this but she couldn't shake the feeling of jealousy.

"Sometimes she be acting like she don't trust me," Gambit was saying. "What else I gotta do for her an' everyone to show dat I can be trusted?!"

Storm focused back on Gambit and suddenly felt a stab of hurt for her friend. Beneath the budding anger was some genuine anguish. He had been through much in his life, how much pain Storm could only guess at, but she saw in those fire-red eyes deep lava pools of long-buried sorrow. She was moved to reach across the table and grasp his hand. "There were those who said you were a thief and a liar," she said. "But I knew in my heart when I first met you that was not so. And now you have proven yourself over and over to be one of the most honorable and reliable men I have ever met. Rogue knows this too. I know that the two of you will manage to work it out."

Gambit's heart warmed at her words and her touch. "Thank you, Stormy," he said.

TO BE CONTINUED

Your feedback means a lot to me. Please send it to: stormkprusa.net

I loved **_Lord of the Rings_**! Just thought I'd let you know. J Maybe someday you'll see hobbits, rings, elves, and sorceresses in "Freedom." You never know.

Chapter 19

Chapter 21 


	21. Chapter 21

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 21

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 21

Scott Summers was packing his belongings into a suitcase. Like most of the X-men, he no longer had many personal possessions. Most of the packing he and Jean would need to finish would consist of their children's items---clothing, toys, books, and the like. Most of the X-men had their re-replicated uniforms, a few changes of clothing, and whatever additional personal items they replicated. They owned little else.

Realizing his meager belongings would easily fill one suitcase with room to spare, Scott found himself longing for something he frequently missed----the mansion back on earth. Treasures such as love letters he and Jean had exchanged throughout their relationship and priceless photographs of his family were gone forever since the mansion had been destroyed by FOH. For a long while after their capture and subsequent freedom from the FOH, most of the X-men had been just glad that they were alive and together. For some, such as Scott, it was only now that literally years had passed that he realized all he truly had lost. Not to mention all the memories that the mansion had contained. It's okay,' he heard Jean's voice in his head---not through their mindlink but he heard it just because he knew what she would say. We are safe and healthy and we're all together. We can also mourn for those other things because they did mean something to us, while we still count our blessings.'

Scott packed a warm pair of slippers, realizing he would need them as Freedom could get quite chilly, especially since saving dilithium was a continual goal. Just as he placed them inside the suitcase, he heard the chirp of his communicator sound.

"Cyclops here."

"Cyclops," the commanding, confident voice on the other end spoke, "it is Gandrida." Gandrida was one of Queen Marina's advisor-assistants. It took Scott a second to register who she was; it had been quite some time since he'd heard from Marina and longer still since he'd had any contact with Gandrida.

"Gandrida. Hello," Scott said awkwardly.

"Queen Marina would like to meet with you, via our video conferencing, in two hours. Are you available then?"

As usual, with Marina it was more of an imperative then a command. Scott knew he didn't really have an option of refusing. "Jean and I will be there," he said, his heart sinking. He knew why Marina wanted to see him.

"Good. Just punch in channel three in your vidcam," Gandrida said, referencing the television-like device each citizen of An'zhina had been given for their room.

Two hours later, Scott and Jean sat facing Queen Marina's image on the screen. "It is good to see you again," the smiling queen said.

Scott and Jean both exchanged pleasantries with the regent. Marina inquired about their children, and the two X-men in turn asked Marina how her son was faring in school. Jean was glad that Marina wasn't a telepath for she sensed that Marina had no idea how much the two disliked this or how uncomfortable her presence made them.

"Well, I'm sure you know why I have contacted you," Marina said, matter-of-factly once they were finished with the polite talk. "Scott, I wanted to see if you had changed your mind about the request I made of you."

The gall!' Scott thought. Each time Marina made her "request", Scott was appalled at how simply the queen would relay it, as if she were asking to borrow a cup of sugar. Scott and Jean had looked up information about Endaria and learned that Endarians had a different attitude towards monogamy. But still! Can't she learn to respect our ways??' Scott forced himself to calm down.

"I am very flattered by your request," Cyclops replied, glad that his visor blocked one of the most expressive features from the purview of others. "But as Jean and I have said before, we are monogamous and I cannot break my marriage vows."

"This is so disappointing. I am only asking for one evening with you. I am not asking that you dissolve your relationship with Jean."

"Queen Marina, I unders------"

"After all I have given you and your people----this moon, virtually unlimited use of the replicators, lending you a starship when you needed one to rescue your people. Scott, I am very disappointed."

Jean squeezed one of Scott's hands, using their mindlink to tell him he'd been doing a good job staying calm and reminding him to keep his cool, no matter how furious he might feel. "I'm sorry that you're disappointed, Queen Marina. But the only answer to this request can be no.' There is no way I would ever break my marriage vows. Nothing in the galaxy could make me do that."

Jean spoke up, "You know, Queen Marina, there are several single men on An'zhina, and I know several of them wish they had….a lover. Perhaps you might find one of them to your liking." Jean spoke the truth about there being numerous single men. Given that almost all of the women on that moon were survivors of sexual torture at the hands of FOH, many of them still did not wish to date or experience relationships. More males on An'zhina than females were seeking a mate.

"But there is only one Scott Summers," Marina said. He was really the only one she wanted that she could not have. Given that she was Queen, she had no want of lovers. But never in her life had she met someone quite like Cyclops. To Marina, he was the perfect man. She could think of nothing about him that she would change----except his answer to her request, of course.

"Well," Marina sighed, "all I can say is that next time you need another favor of me, you cannot expect my help. Especially considering all I have already given you."

That was the end of the conversation. Jean devoted the rest of her afternoon to trying to help her husband out of the bad mood these requests inevitably put him into.

We X-men packed our belongings aboard Freedom and headed off for our next mission to earth. By my calculations, it would be our fifth mission from An'zhina to earth, and the first in which Cyclops and Jean Grey were taking part. It was also the first without Professor Xavier, I noticed. The others X-men on this mission were Storm, Wolverine, Jubilee, Gambit, Rogue, Beast, Panda, Northstar, Nightcrawler, Shaman (his wife and daughter were again staying behind), Aurora, Cannonball, Moonstar, and Wraith. And me, of course. In addition to the three young children coming with (I was so thrilled that Rory and the others would be with us since they're so much fun), there was one other person on board Freedom---the former FOH soldier named Mark.

The announcement that Mark would be coming with caused quite a stir. It was discussed a lot during meals and training sessions leading up to take-off. Me, I didn't have a major problem with it since there wasn't really anything Mark could do to jeopardize our safety, and the Professor and Jean said he wouldn't try anything anyway. I just didn't get it, though. I thought it was real nice that Mark wanted to help but I kinda wondered whether this was the best way. (Though if it meant one less bridge duty session during "nighttime", then that would be very cool.) Basically I felt that if our leaders were okay with it then I was okay with it too.

It would be a little weird without the Professor, though. Before we left, he said he wanted to see each of us, one on one.

Along with the Professor, Banshee and Moira remaining on An'zhina, Angel was also taking a pass on the mission so he could be with Sara Grey. I can't say I'd miss him too much, but I didn't have any ill-will towards him and was glad he'd (apparently) found love. He had been depressed since things went wrong with Betsy and he looked much better when he stood with his arm around Sara by the clearing where Freedom had parked, to bid us farewell. I kinda wondered, though, whether Warren had an obsessive personality. He spent years obsessed with getting at Apocalypse, and after that he became obsessed with his love for Pyslocke. (I mean, I wasn't in the X-men at that time, but I've heard all about it.) And now that the relationship with Psylocke fell apart, it seemed he devoted all his energy to Sara. Before that, when I knew him like fifteen years ago during my first stint in the X-men, he'd seemed quite devoted to his material possessions and acquiring as many things as possible. I was sure that now we had no money, he "needed" a relationship to pour himself into.

I bet Wolverine hated him though, since everyone knew he wanted Sara. Maybe it was also partly for his own safety that Warren decided to remain on An'zhina. I couldn't blame him and was sure glad I never had to worry about Wolverine and I having the same love interest. Wolverine is not someone I'd want mad at me.

A few hours after take-off, Storm sat on the bridge as the vessel warped through space towards earth. Meanwhile, several of the X-men gathered in the mess hall for dinner.

"Whether it be replicated on An'zhina or replicated on dis ship, it all taste the same to me," Gambit proclaimed, taking in a forkful of sausage.

"What are you whinin' about, Cajun?" Wolverine asked. "You want it spicier, you just press a few buttons."

"Still ain't the same, mon ami." Gambit shook his head and repeated, "Still ain't the same. The best food we had all dese years been the food the natives on the Paradise Planet gave us and stuff from Bobby's gardens."

"Why thank you," Bobby said, glad for the compliment. As always, when on An'zhina he maintained both the garden there and the one on the ship. Now that they were in space, he would have to hope those back on the moon would maintain the garden well as he devoted his attention to the one on the ship. Jean gladly volunteered to assist.

"The food the natives gave us on the Paradise Planet was incredible," Jubilee enthused. "It was so full of taste, you know? Even though it was simple stuff like apples and beans. I like the replicated stuff just fine but somehow that food had more…flavors. I wish Aurora could've tasted it. Though the veggies from your garden are great too," she hastened to add, looking at Bobby. Jubilee then wiped her daughter's face with a napkin. The toddler was doing well with eating finger-foods but needed assistance in keeping her meals off her face.

Bobby smiled again at the praise and the conversation died down for a bit as the hungry X-men ate.

"So, did y'all meet with the Professor before we left?" Rogue asked. "I gotta ask what he said to each of you---I'm itchin' to hear bout it." The day before the X-men were to depart, Professor Xavier requested a one-on-one meeting with each one of them. It had been a curious and unexpected request to many, but everyone of course obliged. Rogue dearly wanted to know what sort of exchange the others had had with the Professor. Sitting around the table that day were Gambit, Wolverine, Bobby, Jubilee, Nightcrawler and Cannonball ---and Rogue eagerly looked at their faces, hoping they would share what they had been told by their mentor.

"You asked the question, you go first," Jubilee smiled, nudging Rogue.

"Okay, sugar," she said, shrugging. "Xavier got awful mushy on me and said he was glad for all the progress I made as an X-man, and as a leader. Said he was right glad to see me resolving my past and bein' able to touch others. He asked me how I felt---which I thought was curious; why didn't he just read my mind? He said I seemed much happier than I was years ago, and I said he was right."

"How cool!" Bobby said. He then went on the relay his conversation with Xavier. "He said some similar stuff to me. Like, he said I'd improved a lot and that I was a real valuable member of the team, and he appreciated all the work I'd done. He said he was proud of me. He also asked me how I felt. Um, it was real mushy but it was also very nice and I almost got tears in my eyes." Bobby was still glowing from the encounter. His own parents had seldom offered any praise or had a kind word for Bobby.

"The Professor asked me how I liked being an X-man," Cannonball piped up, "what I thought of the team so far, how I thought my training was going----stuff like that. He also said he was glad that I wanted to be an X-man, to train as one. It was real nice."

Jubilee said, "He was totally praising me too. Just like saying that I was strong, a great member of the team, and training well. And he said he it looked like I was doing a great job balancing being an X-man with being a mom. He said he was proud of me and everything I'd done over the years with the team. That sort of stuff."

"Same here," Wolverine muttered.

"Except the bit about being a great mom," Bobby added, hoping for a giggle. Wolverine shot him a nasty look and Bobby nearly recoiled.

Nightcrawler and Gambit added that the Professor had given them similar-type blessings. Rogue listened intently. "I just wonder why he did that, you know?" she asked. "It ain't like he never praises us, but he usually doesn't go on and on like that."

"Dat is a good question," Gambit said. "Last time Gambit remember the Professor givin' us blessings like dat was right before he almost died," he said, referring to an incident long in the X-men's pasts. He stated the words without thinking, but then looked around at the other faces at the table.

"You don't think he's…" Jubilee began.

"It can't be," Cannonball said. "He looks in great shape to me. Well, a little tired maybe. But he seems well. How old is he, anyway?"

Nightcrawler said, "I believe he's in his sixties now. Early sixties, I think."

"Dat sounds 'bout right," Gambit added.

Rogue reached for her communicator on impulse and called Hank. "Hey, Beast," she began, "can you tell me when the Professor last had a check-up with you. Just curious."

Hank replied that it had been "approximately 6-8 months ago, though I can check the logs to get an accurate time period."

"No need to, sugar. Thanks." She turned her communicator off.

Wolverine shook his head. "You're overreacting, darlin'. The Professor ain't sick. He got emotional at Hank and Panda's wedding and he's been in that kind of mood. Don't go making a mountain out of a molehill."

Wolverine spoke with finality, but Rogue was not convinced.

The X-men had been in space for a handful of days. One afternoon, Northstar arrived in the mess hall for lunch after having just finished his bridge duty shift. He noted Bobby sitting at a table with Mark. As it was later than the time that most ate lunch, they were the only people in the dining area. Bobby looked up, saw Northstar, and smiled.

Northstar reached for a tray and walked over to a replicator to punch in his selection. As he had hundreds of times, he silently thanked the heavens for the fact that he once again had two working arms. It had been a nightmare when FOH soldiers had chopped off an arm. Once he had his freedom from them, learning to maneuver without a limb that he'd taken for granted all his life had been difficult and more painful than he'd ever dreamed. He silently thanked Queen Marina once more, and was glad he'd had the audacity to make the request. It had angered Cyclops and the others. Oh well,' Northstar thought. If it had been him or Jean without an arm, Cyclops wouldn't have hesitated to ask the good Queen.'

Receiving his lunch selections from the replicator, Jean-Paul piled them onto his tray and sat down next to Bobby. "Thank you for waiting for me, mon amour," he said, affectionately tousling Bobby's hair.

"I saved you some of the salad from the ship's garden," Bobby said.

"You are good to me, indeed," Jean-Paul smiled. As he put his napkin on his lap, he tried to get a handle on his joy. It was obvious that Bobby adored him. He knew that from the first time they got together, months ago, when Bobby had been on bridge duty and Northstar had entered the bridge to talk and get to know him better. No, Jean-Paul had known it even before then. Even as the three surviving members of Alpha Flight had disembarked from their shuttle in Freedom's shuttle bay and he'd seen Bobby smiling at him, offering to take his bags. Even back then, Bobby had eyed him with a hint of awe. The love had grown exponentially since then, it was evident in the way Bobby touched him, spoke to him, looked at him.

Am I worthy of all this love?' Northstar wondered for a moment. Because, despite his occasionally arrogant demeanor, deep down he felt like this and truly wondered what he had done to deserve such love. He also tried to get a handle on his own emotions. He loved Bobby…yes, without a doubt it was love he felt for him. But, subconsciously or not, Northstar fought to keep it contained. He had already lost every other human being who had meant anything to him, save his sister. He loved Bobby but tried to be controlled about it too, not letting it spill over to that adoration, that near worship, that Bobby felt. At the same time, he would not hurt Bobby, would not let him be disappointed. He let Bobby know that he loved him; Northstar didn't conceal his love or hold back at all. Northstar was not the most controlled person in terms of his actions but he could reign in his heart and he struggled to do it every day.

Northstar glanced at Mark. Bobby had mentioned not long ago that he wanted to get to know Mark a little better and make him feel welcome, so this must be why they'd ended up at lunch together this day.

"How long have you been gardening?" Mark asked Bobby.

"Oh, I'd say about 7 or 8 years now," Bobby replied.

"What got you in to it?"

Bobby grinned. "Well, the real reason was that I wanted to get a boyfriend. There aren't a lot of guys who can cook or garden, and I wanted a boyfriend, so I thought this could be a big plus in my favor."

Mark returned Bobby's smile. "Did it work? Did you meet any guys?"

"Well, I got him, don't I?" Bobby said flippantly, gesturing at Northstar.

"Are you together because of his cooking and gardening skills?" Mark asked Northstar, maintaining Bobby's lightheartedness in his voice.

Bobby jumped in before Northstar could answer, "No, it's my sense of humor---right, Jean-Paul?"

Northstar laughed. "Actually, you could say that I love you despite your sense of humor," he chuckled. Northstar noted that Mark appeared relatively at ease---both sitting with these two gay men and discussing this subject. That was always important for gay people to know---who was friend and who was foe? Who was comfortable sitting down and discussing things that were important to your life and who was not? Unlike good old Cyclops,' Northstar ruminated, who practically stiffens with terror if the discussion tiptoes anywhere near our sexual orientation.'

"How long have you been together?" Mark asked, scoring another point in both Northstar and Bobby's minds.

Northstar and Bobby looked at each other. "I'm not sure," Northstar said. "It is so difficult to keep track of time in space, you know."

Bobby tilted his head back. "Well, let's see….it was during our second mission back to earth and Jean was pregnant with Christopher at the time." He found it easiest to note time by the children's ages, since the parents were fastidious with keeping track of that. "I am thinking she was about 6 months along at that time. And when I was playing with Chris and Char earlier today in the rec room, Jean said Chris was 5 months old now. So perhaps about 8 months, if I'm adding this up correctly."

The conversation continued on, Jean-Paul hanging back and just enjoying watching Bobby interact with this other person. Some might say that Bobby was ordinary, but not so to Northstar. Bobby might not turn heads in a crowd but there was something about him. He had a kind heart and a very sweet down-to-earth manner. Bobby was handsome, too in a more cute way than anything else.

Northstar continued to listen to the conversation, fervently wishing it would soon end and Mark would go about his business. He suddenly wanted Bobby very, very much. They hadn't made love for two days now----neither had been in the mood two nights ago, and last night Bobby had wanted it but Northstar was tired. Jean-Paul ardently hoped Bobby didn't have bridge duty anytime soon….no, he remembered that Bobby had mentioned earlier in the day that his shift was after dinner. He suddenly had an idea on how to get Bobby in the mood very quickly.

As soon as Mark had finished eating and said goodbye to the two men, Northstar turned to Bobby and put a hand on his boyfriend's thigh. "Do you want to wrestle?" he asked. He saw the look on Bobby's face, he knew that his voice alone--his accent--- was a turn-on for Bobby.

"Yes!" Bobby replied, his eyes lighting up. They didn't wrestle too often, but they always had great sex afterwards. As they were alone in the cafeteria, Bobby reached for him and they kissed deeply. The two men both scrambled off to the room that they now shared.

Moments later, the bed had been handily propped against a wall, the minimal furniture also pushed aside, and a large mat with a plastic-y covering occupied most of the floor. Northstar and Bobby stripped off their clothing and covered their bodies with oil. Jean-Paul took a quick look at Bobby's groin and found his lover stiffening already.

They then began their "wrestling." The slick oil allowed them to easily slide in and out of each other's grasps and they did so for several minutes. Just as Northstar thought he had Bobby, Bobby glided away. Neither would use his powers, and Jean-Paul was naturally just a bit stronger. He knew he would win; he had won every other match they had, though they both also knew Bobby loved to lose. Part of the fun, though, was in the struggle and in the visual delights this provided them both.

Northstar reached again for Bobby, and this time pined him onto his back. He reached down and covered Bobby's mouth with his own, lapping his tongue against Bobby's. Bobby moaned, too aroused now to put up any more pretense of a fight. Jean-Paul grasped Bobby, his body glistening now both with sweat and the oil, and turned him over his knee. He reached for Bobby's delectable rear end and gently spanked it a few times. Bobby practically squealed with pleasure. "Seems I win again, oui?" Northstar asked.

"You win," Bobby murmured. He barely attempted to conceal his excitement.

"Let's see….what should I have you do first?" Northstar asked, his heart beating faster with anticipation. He rose, and beckoned Bobby to kneel in front of him. Bobby scrambled into position, losing his balance for a bit on the slick floor. Once in place, he reached for the half-hardened cock he was presented with and took it between his lips. He sucked it with passion and verve, using his tongue well, so clearly enjoying every second of it, just as much as Northstar was. "Si bon," Northstar murmured, getting harder and harder. "Ah oui….Bobby, you so good at this."

When Northstar felt the time was right, he tapped Bobby's head and asked him to stop. Bobby then scrambled to his feet, handily returning the bed to its usual place. He then knelt on the edge of the bed and thrust his bottom upwards. "Not yet, amour," Northstar said, patting Bobby's rear. "I want a little taste, too." Jean-Paul knelt in front of the bed as Bobby repositioned himself, sitting on the edge. Jean-Paul gave him head, tonguing his cock and savoring the pre cum that spilt forth. After a few moments, though, Bobby moaned and Jean-Paul knew it was a moan partially of lust but mostly of impatience. He released Bobby's cock and stood up.

"I love you, mon coeuer," Northstar said, and reached down to kiss Bobby's lips again, tasting himself on Bobby's mouth.

"I love you too," Bobby said and Northstar was again taken aback by just how much the man in his arms meant those words. He then gestured for Bobby to turn around. "On your hands and knees, amour," he directed. "I am going to fill you up with my cum."

Jean-Paul reached in the nightstand for extra lube and for a condom as Bobby assumed the position. He took a few moments to prepare Bobby, using his fingers and tongue. "Now, Jean-Paul! Fuck me!" Bobby begged.

Jean-Paul smiled at Bobby's impatience and unwrapped the condom. He then knelt behind Bobby, slowly pushing his way inside his lover. It felt like coming home, he mused as he loved the tightness that wrapped around his pulsing cock. Being inside Bobby again felt so good. Of course, both would've preferred to nix the condom. They never had to use them in the past, but after the assault on Jean-Paul, condoms became necessary. The fit wasn't quite as perfect as either would've liked, but they had to accept it.

The two thrust together, Jean-Paul whispering how good it felt, how much he loved it. "So good, si bon…oh yes," he gasped. He moved so that his strokes hit Bobby's prostate, knowing how much that made Bobby tingle, and he was rewarded with just the right set of cries, letting him know he was on target. Bobby seemed to love nothing more than writhing around on all fours as Jean-Paul moved inside of him. Mere seconds after he reached one hand around to pump Bobby, Bobby came all over the bedsheets.

Northstar continued his motions, thrusting harder and faster. He loved the sight of Bobby's slick back and buttocks, shining from the oil, as he moved in and out, thrusting and withdrawing. But he soon whispered, "I want to look into your eyes when I come." The lovers repositioned themselves, Bobby laying on his back with his legs resting on Northstar's shoulders. Northstar concentrated on the increasingly frantic motions of his hips, no longer murmuring words of pleasure, just propelling himself forward again and again with mindless pleasure. With a groan of triumph, Northstar came as he looked at his lover's adoring face.

Afterwards, Bobby wanted to lay back and snuggle, but Northstar was stripping the bed of its covers. They had found that they needed to wash them right away to remove tenacious oil stains. Northstar fastidiously showered, dressed himself, brought the bedclothes to the washing area where machines would take over, and then returned to their room. He preferred to have everything in order before lounging around. Bobby had already re-dressed the bed and was again laying on it, waiting for Northstar.

"It's not bedtime, mon amour," Jean-Paul said.

"I know. But let's cuddle some," Bobby suggested. "Since we don't smoke, we need to do something after sex, right?" He hadn't dressed yet, just thrown on a pair of boxers. Jean-Paul obligingly reclined against the headboards with him, taking Bobby into his arms.

"Ah! You still have some oil on you," Jean-Paul recoiled from him, not wanting his uniform to be stained.

"I thought I washed most of it off. Sorry." Bobby poked at the tiny smudge on Northstar's uniform. "Nothing that won't come off. Just relax a bit," he said, his voice becoming mellow. Northstar again obligingly took Bobby into his arms. "Mmmm, that feels nice," Bobby murmured. "Damn, that was so good today."

"I know," Northstar said. He knew Bobby was upset that Northstar hadn't returned to his arms immediately after their lovemaking, but Northstar hated the thought of relaxing while greasy oil stains were soiling the bedclothes. Only now could he really enjoy the contentment that followed sex.

"You're by far the best I ever had."

"As you are mine, amour," he replied, relaxing and venturing into a more playful mood. The two chattered for a bit, talking about nothing in particular, and Northstar asked, "So tell me, Bobby. What other guys here you think are attractive?"

"Wolverine, of course."

"Why Wolverine?" Jean-Paul wondering, never having been able to fathom why so many drooled over him.

"He's a big slab of hunky beefcake." Bobby actually said the words matter-of-factly and with a straight face.

"What?? A big slab of hunky beefcake?'" he echoed, laughing at the terms. "And this ---from a vegetarian, no less! But he is the polar opposite of me."

"No he's not—you're both strong and muscular. Forceful personalities too. Well, physically Wolverine has a rugged look and you are my beautiful storybook elf."

"'Hunky beefcake' and 'storybook elves'----Robere, I sound like I'm stuck in a bad romance novel! But no thank you on Wolverine---I don't want all that hair all over me," he said, flicking at some imaginary substance on his smooth chest. Jean-Paul liked his own hair-free chest. Bobby had sparse hair on his chest, which Jean-Paul didn't mind though sometimes he wished it were smooth too.

"Who do you think's hot?"

"Gambit. Of course."

"Gambit?? But I'm nothing like him. You're more like him." Bobby exclaimed, feigning shock.

"How so?"

"Well…um, well, you're both French?"

"French?? Gambit is Cajun. And I am Quebecer!" Northstar replied in mock-horror. Years ago perhaps he truly would've been offended but now he realized how little these differences back on earth meant.

"Yeah, yeah but to an American Midwesterner, you're both French," Bobby said, smiling and knowing he hadn't really upset Jean-Paul.

"So…you think Remy LeBeau's ever gone our way before?" Northstar pronounced the name accurately and with flair.

"He's probably tried it once or twice," Bobby shrugged. "I bet there's not much he hasn't done. But I doubt he'll do it again now--- he's got eyes only for Rogue. I haven't seen him give a second glance to any other woman." Bobby said. "Or man," he added, half-jokingly.

"You know who I want to do? Cyclops. Or Angel. Either one of them, right up the rear. I'm not really that attracted to either one but both of them need to experience that."

Bobby giggled and shook his head. "I don't recommend that you proposition either of them, my love."

Light-years away from the X-men, a deadly duo encountered a starship belonging to the Friends of Humanity. The vessel was cloaked---as was theirs---but when one is as powerful a telepath as Betsy Braddock, cloaking does little to truly hide you. The shuttle, stolen from Freedom and now home of Psylocke and Marrow, soon matched warp velocity with the FOH ship.

With Marrow tensed at the ship's controls, Betsy concentrated. She scanned the minds of the 76 ship crewmembers, searching for their captain. It generally was not all that difficult to find someone who held power in FOH. They prided themselves on rank and power----those who held it kept that fact in the front of their minds at all times. And those around the powerful feared them. Fear was so easy to sense.

However, as Psylocke continued to skim the human beings on board the FOH ships, she realized with a start that about a dozen mutants lived on that ship as well. Female mutants who were being brought on this journey to be "used" by the crew. Psylocke and Marrow's mission now had an added complexity.

But that did not detract from Psylocke's concentration. She found the captain and took hold of his mind. Seeing out of his eyes now, she compelled him to command a number of different orders. His orders seemed bizarre to most of the crew but FOH soldiers were indoctrinated to obey without question. The entire crew was now gathered in a few different rooms, per their captain's instructions. On board the bridge, they accepted a beam-in of a substance which Marrow transported to them. The captain opened the substance and disbursed the stun gas throughout the rooms which held the FOH crewmen. For the few who were not immediately knocked out by the gas, Psylocke shot out psychic stun bursts, causing their systems to go into shock. The men fainted. The ship was now ready for Psylocke and Marrow, gas masks in place, to board.

"The fun begins now," Marrow said, strapping on her gas mask and preparing for transport. She could hardly wait to get her hands on the FOH soldiers. She would strip them as they had done to her, invade and lacerate their bodies as her own had been ripped apart. All the while the soldiers would be conscious, screaming in agony, some begging for mercy. Marrow's pulse pounded. Since her stay at the FOH camp, where she had endured hundred upon hundreds of rapes, enacting this torture was really the only thing that made her feel alive. Nothing else brought any pleasure to her life, she never felt the stirrings of sexual desire anymore----not that she would've had any way to relieve them as Betsy had no want of another woman at all. Marrow briefly touched her fingers to the pulse on her neck which frenetically beat. I'm alive!!!!' she thought as the sensations rushed through her.

"What do we do with the mutants they have with them?" Psylocke wondered. She was more calm than Marrow but still eager. Entering and commanding minds took intense concentration and Psylocke was temporarily fatigued.

"I say we give them a choice---join us or take our shuttle back to earth." Marrow and Psylocke had long been talking about "moving to a bigger house." They planned to take control of this FOH vessel and make it their new base. They had thought they would keep their trusty shuttle as an extra, but Psylocke liked Marrow's idea instead. If the captured mutants didn't want to join them, they had an out.

"Or we could auto-program the shuttle for An'zhina and send any who want it there," Psylocke said. "They'd be welcome there, I'm sure."

"I like it," Marrow said. "We'll give the survivors the choice---earth or An'zhina." She paused and ripped a bone from her hip, grunting with the pain. She'd been growing this particularly long and thick bone for weeks and merrily ran her fingers lightly across the jagged edges. "Enough talking! Payback time!!"

The X-men were half-way through their five week journey back to earth. The trip had been uneventful---no FOH vessels had been encountered nor had Jean sensed any. It was speculated that FOH might be routinely cloaking all of their vessels. They didn't used to but perhaps they were taking extra precautionary measures. "However, we must remember," Beast reminded the group during a meeting that Cyclops had called, "that space is exceedingly vast. It is not as if we travel on a straight line. Our sensors scan a wide area but they cannot detect everything."

"He's right," Cyclops said. "It's a good reminder for us to be on our toes at all times."

Cyclops had called the meeting to take place shortly after lunch time one day and for the purpose of "a general update." As Gambit sat around the table, he thought that it was somewhat odd to see Cyclops giving orders once more. Cyke hadn't been on any of the other missions to earth. Gambit realized he had become thoroughly accustomed to---and he liked---Storm's leadership style. Got nothin' to do wit' the fact dat me and Storm are good friends,' he thought. Well, it does a bit,' he then admitted to himself, 'but Stormy also got a great style of leadership.'

"Well, switching gears, there is one thing I'd like to announce," Cyclops then said. "I've decided to change the duration of our bridge duty shifts---from five hours to six-and-a-half hours. It will mean longer shifts, of course, but fewer shifts too."

Gambit looked around the table, his eyes settling on Storm. Although she attempted to hide it, he could tell she was surprised by this dictate. And none too happy at being surprised like this either. Gambit's eyes then turned towards his wife. Her feelings were always less well-hidden then Storm's. She crossed her arms over her chest. "We puttin' this up to a vote or are you tellin' us?" Rogue asked. She kept her voice sweet, dripping with honey and pleasant to anyone who didn't know her well, but Gambit could tell she wasn't thrilled with the way the new order had been handed down. Gambit wasn't too crazy about it either.

Cyclops spread his hands. "We certainly can vote on it if people would like."

"I think that would be a good idea," Storm said. Her voice, Gambit noted, rang out calm and steady as usual. "Since this impacts all of us, it would be nice if we had a chance to veto it or not."

"I didn't see anything wrong with the way we had it before," Wolverine grumbled.

The X-men quickly voted by a show of hands. Panda, on bridge duty at the time, spoke her vote over the communicator. By a sizable margin, the group decided to retain five hour bridge duty shifts. An embarrassed Cyclops said he had merely hoped to "make things better for the group." He then hurriedly changed the topic and the meeting soon petered out to an end.

A few hours later, Gambit was sitting by the pool, lounging around after a swim with two of his favorite people in the world---Rogue and Storm. "What de hell he be t'inkin??" Gambit asked. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

"I love the way he comes in and lays it down like an order," Rogue said. "For cryin' out loud, why not just ask the group which they'd prefer??" She sighed with exasperation.

Gambit turned to Storm and said. "I wonder if he be tryin' to establish dat he's in command here. I mean, he ain't----last time we talked about it, it was decided dat you and him will co-lead, right?"

Storm nodded. Gambit continued, "Well, maybe he's wantin' to be number one again."

Storm looked down at her hands. She had not had an easy past few months and this certainly did not help matters. "That decision—that Cyclops and I would co-lead----was made years ago, on earth." As she said the words, she realized how very long ago that truly had been. "Before that, he led the group for a long time by himself. It is easy to fall back into old patterns of behavior." She sighed. "I do not wish to blow this out of proportion. We X-men have been through so much together that it seems petty to squabble over something like this." She paused. "But perhaps it could grow to something more. Maybe I should have a talk with him."

"It ain't like you be tryin' to horde power or make yourself our only leader," Gambit said. "Maybe you approach him like you wanna be gettin' clarification on somet'ing."

Storm nodded. "Perhaps I will do so," she said, sounding distant. "I wish we were back on An'zhina where we could be sunbathing by the sea instead of in a gym."

With that, Storm signaled her desire to end that conversation. Gambit got up to bring the group some more replicated drinks, and he speculated on the possible results of a Storm-Cyclops clash. Not that he wished to see it happen. Storm was right; the X-men had been through so much together, they were a family. They didn't need conflicts over leadership or internal power struggles. But at the same time….it was not inconceivable that this could happen either.

If it came to that, Gambit wondered, who would support who? He mentally ran down the list of X-men, thinking first of those who would be likely to back Storm. He and Rogue would unquestionably support Storm. Bobby probably would too----Gambit and he had once discussed preferring Storm's leadership style over Cyclops's. In all probability, if Bobby went with Storm, so would Northstar and Aurora. Gambit knew Northstar didn't care for Cyclops at all, and he assumed Northstar's sister would have a similar opinion. Jubilee would go with Storm, Gambit speculated----Jubes seemed to look up to her quite a bit. Though she also admired Jean….but Gambit knew Jubilee would prefer a leader who allowed rules to be bent. Dani Moonstar would also favor Storm; Gambit thought she adulated the Wind Rider. And despite his feelings for Jean and whatever had happened between him and Storm, Wolverine would endorse Storm as well. Though they had been getting along pretty well the past few years, his dislike of Cyclops's management style was strong enough, and Gambit knew Wolverine way preferred Storm's type of leadership.

Angel would go with Cyclops, Gambit ruminated, continuing on down his mental list of X-men. The two seemed to get along well enough, and he thought he'd detected a mild mutual dislike between Angel and Storm. And, of course, Jean Grey went without saying. Gambit had a strong feeling that Banshee and Moira were likely to back Cyke as well, though he couldn't say exactly why. Dey more traditional,' he realized. And Scott be pretty traditional.' Angel, Banshee and Moira were all back on An'zhina now though.

The rest of the X-men, Gambit decided, were unknowns. He wasn't sure how Beast, Panda, Nightcrawler, Cannonball or Wraith would decide to vote if it ever came to that. However, he thought enough of them might support Storm to keep the balance in her favor.

No, Cyke,' Gambit thought. If you be tryin' any power plays now, it's too late. You don't have enough people behind you.'

Whatever the case, Xavier likely wouldn't let it come to something like this. He would encourage them to find ways to work together and continue to function as a team without this divisiveness. If he still around,' Gambit speculated. He then chased that disturbing thought out of his mind. Rogue had been overreacting the other day. There was nothing wrong with Xavier; there couldn't have been. 'Besides, if Xavier be sick, he would've told us,' Gambit decided. He ended that train of thought there.

I was playing cards with Rogue and Gambit one day in the rec room when I was witness to an argument. I don't know about most people, but me I'd rather not be around when a couple is fighting. It really ruined the fun, though both of them had already been kicking my butt at our poker game anyway. (I could never remember which was higher, a straight or a flush or three of a kind or a full house, and it kept giving my position away when I had to ask.)

We were chattering away about nothing in particular. During much of the game, Jean and Scott had been in the rec room with us, playing with Charlotte and Christopher in the section that was used as a play area for the kids. The children's nap time soon came upon us, and Jean and Scott left with their kids.

"Say, do you guys know how Storm's doing?" I asked, out of the blue, once the three of us were alone in the rec room. "I figure you're closer to her and she doesn't ever really open up to me. Whenever I see her, she looks pretty bummed out."

Gambit scoffed. "Hard to say, Bobby---she don't much open up to us much either."

"But even I can tell that she's kinda down and has been down for a while. Do you guys know…is it because of what happened when we were captured by FOH? Or is it more a Wolverine thing?"

"Gambit t'ink it's Wolverine dat's botherin' her. An' I t'ink she's upset most of all 'bout the fact dat she have feelings for him and can't jus' get over it."

Rogue then spoke up. "I bet Wolverine was a great lover and she misses that. 'Course I haven't been around the block like some people so I sure wouldn't know what----"

All of a sudden, Gambit just kinda lost it. He slammed his cards down onto the table and exploded, "Dat's enough, chere! You been takin' shots at me like dis for a month now and I'm sick of it!"

I sat back stunned, not knowing why Gambit was so angry all of a sudden. I hadn't thought that Rogue really said anything out of line. And I had never seen him so angry. I got the idea that there was something else going on, something I knew nothing about.

While Gambit was riled up, Rogue remained calm. She said simply, "Wasn't takin' a shot at you, honey. Just makin' a statement, that's all."

Gambit's reply had none of Rogue's mildness. "Yeah, right. Chere, you jus' gotta get over it! Jus' get over it and deal wit' it. You actin' like I done you wrong when I treat you like a Princess!"

Rogue still kept her cool and just shrugged. "I ain't got nothing to get over, Mister. You're the one actin' like you got the problem here."

By this point, I fervently wished I was somewhere else. I practiced looking intently at my cards for a while. They continued squabbling, Gambit getting madder and madder and Rogue acting calm. I gotta say he really look like he flew off the handle, and over what I couldn't say. This was a side of Gambit I hadn't really seen before. I also heard some things that I almost wish I hadn't, such as Gambit yelling at one point, "How can you not trust Gambit when I trus' you?? You the only lady Remy ever let tie him up!" I hastily put a hand over my mouth at that point to keep from laughing, and I filed that comment away for later use.

By the end of the squabble, Rogue was sincerely imploring him to stop being so angry, but he actually got up and stomped out of the room. I'd never seen Gambit acting so unreasonable.

A moment later, Cannonball, Jubilee and Mark entered the rec room, with little Rory. Rogue got up and left.

It's hard to believe that sometimes a truly horrible occurrence can have a positive result, but I have really experienced that in my lifetime. I know that a Shaman or a Storm or the Professor would probably say something philosophical like that any time. In the past I might not have believed them but it really hit home with me now. The thought was running through my head one night as I fell asleep next to Jean-Paul.

He and I never used to share a bed before, but ever since we'd reconciled we had been doing just that. We basically shared a room too, both on An'zhina and on Freedom. In both cases the room we shared was the one that had formerly belonged just to me, and Jean-Paul still kept a few belongings in his old room. The atrocity he lived through and, more to the point, the way we handled it as a couple brought us closer together. And it sure was nice to again cuddle up with someone as I fell asleep.

My sleep used to be plagued by nightmares, especially earlier in my life. The bad dreams generally had tapered off by this point in my life, though they still returned upon occasion. One night, however, I was awoken not by my own nightmares, but by Jean-Paul's.

By the time he unconsciously woke me up, it seemed as if he'd been tossing and turning for hours. The sounds he made finally pulled me from my slumber. It wasn't the first time that he'd had a painful nightmare since we'd taken to sharing a bed----there was one other that I knew of, at least---but this one was monstrous. The sounds he was making terrified me. I made the decision to nudge him awake.

For a long, long time, we just held each other. I waited for his body to stop shaking and for him to calm down. I could tell he was just trying to compose himself and I knew he wasn't going to just fall back asleep. I think he was afraid to. When he spoke, his voice sounded rusty. He asked me to bring him a glass of water. So I got up and padded down the hall to the nearest food replicator (which actually was in sick bay….long ago, when we'd first taken over this ship, we had installed a food replicator inside the infirmary and we used to eat all our meals there too, back when Jubilee didn't leave that room and we all wanted to remain at her side. We'd never removed the food replicator from sick bay and it did come in handy at times, too.)

I returned to the room, carrying the glass of water Jean-Paul wanted and a mug of hot chocolate for myself. He was now sitting up in bed, resting against the bedboard, and I took my place at his side. I put an arm around him. "Do you want to talk?" I asked.

Jean-Paul nodded but he was silent for a long time. I knew that part of him hated this, hated being seen as so weak. It wasn't really easy for him to open up either. He gestured at my mug. "What do you have there?" he softly asked.

"Hot chocolate."

"I should have asked for that instead of water."

"Here," I said, offering it to him. "We can share."

"Merci," he murmured in French as he took the drink and sipped.

I moved my arm from around his shoulders to rub his back. "How often do you have nightmares?" I asked him. This was only the second time that his nightmares had woken me up, but for all I knew, he had them every night.

"I don't know," he said. "A lot." He handed the hot chocolate back to me and set his glass of water on the nightstand. He then scooted even closer to me and rested his head on my shoulder. "It's good that you're here and you're holding me."

Then he went silent again, and I had no desire to mutter any platitudes at him and tell him that things would get better. And I could no longer encourage him to talk to the Professor about what happened since we were now lightyears away. So I took a few sips of my hot chocolate, set the drink down, and put both my arms around Jean-Paul. He snuggled easily down into my embrace, and we both were quiet for many minutes. It was so warm and cozy that I perhaps could have fallen back asleep, but I felt the terror and the tension coursing through my lover and I wanted to be there for him. I can't say how long we remained like that except that it seemed like a while.

"It was so horrible," he whispered, out of the blue. "I was never so scared."

His tone of voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My impulse was to say something like, It's over, you're free from them,' but I didn't want to close off his train of thought. And he had never really discussed with me what was done to him; I didn't know how much he'd really worked it through. "I know," I said, squeezing him tighter. "I was so scared too, thinking of what they'd do to you."

"They stuck a broomstick inside me," he said.

I shuddered. He was quiet again. I whispered, "Oh my god," because I didn't know what else to say. I mean, I can't say I was surprised to hear that, but it was terrifying and disgusting nonetheless.

"That was after they took turns raping me," he added. "I—I didn't think I would be so scared that time. Because I'd already lived through their torture once before. But I don't know, Bobby. Somehow it was all so much worse this time. I was terrified. Even during it, I was in such pain and I was terrified thinking of what might happen next. And the whole time I felt I should be worried for Jeanne-Marie and for you, but I thought only of myself."

I wasn't totally sure what he meant by that, so I answered, "You were tortured. Don't worry about what you thought of during it. You're not responsible for anything that happened. You got out of it alive and I'm just glad you survived."

"I can't believe I'm being so bad about recovering from it. I want to get up and forget about it, but I can't." He paused, and then stumbled over a few words. "And Bobby, I thought…..well last time I was tortured by FOH. I—I think I kind of forgot about it. But this second time, now it seems everything from the first time is coming back up to the surface."

"And you wish you could forget all of it," I finished for him. "Instead, you're getting hit with both memories at the same time." I suddenly was very worried. Everything the Professor had said, I reminded myself, certainly was true. Recovery wasn't necessarily a linear process, and it wouldn't be an easy one either .Jean-Paul had been acting so much like the self I fell in love with lately, but who knew what stages he might go through next?

"Yes."

"Jubilee told me that she once considered asking the Professor to erase her memory," I said. "The memory of what she lived through with FOH. But she decided against it."

"It's a tempting idea. Jeanne-Marie considered the same thing once. I did too. So why did Jubilee decide not to do it?"

"She said that living through it and working through it made her a stronger person. She said that somehow the whole experience---I mean, as awful as it was----is a part of her now and she doesn't want it erased."

Jean-Paul pulled me a bit closer. I could breathe his scent in, masked a bit by the sterile , clean smell of the replicated soap. I touched his face and gently caressed his hair with my fingertips. I loved the color, which was white or black or a mixture of both, depending on how the light hit it.

"If he was here now, I might ask him to do it," Jean-Paul said. "But I guess for now I must live with it and deal with it. You know, Bobby, I think I've never really said this but….but I thank God for you every day. I don't know what I would do without you, mon coeuer. You have been an angel. I don't tell you this enough, I know. But having your love in my life is a blessing."

"Oh, Jean-Paul," I said, my heart filling with warmth. "I love you too. I'm so glad we're together----you are a blessing in my life too."

Jean-Paul then loosened his grip on me and laughed an ironic laugh. "Of course, you know….we must make our relationship work. We're the only two gay mutants."

His comment made the warmth I felt a moment ago recede just a bit. "We would be together even if we weren't," I said. I knew it sounded slightly more defensive than it should have. But I knew that if Jean-Paul hadn't been right for me, if he and I didn't truly love each other, then we wouldn't have the bond that we had now.

"Oh, I know, I know," he said. "But it is nice that we have an extra incentive to remain together, too. We won't give up on this relationship when things get rough."

"Yeah, really," I replied. "And given what might be happening to the other gay guys on earth, we really are the only two."

Jean-Paul pulled back and turned so that he looked at me. "What do you mean about what might be happening to the others on earth?" he asked. "You mean the fact that we think FOH probably killing any gay mutants they find?"

"I, uh….well, sort of. Um, do you remember what one of the FOH soldiers taunted us with?" I hated to bring up those memories but I didn't see any other way to answer his question. "They said something about all gays being quarantined to stop the spread of AIDS. All, whether they're mutants or not," I repeated.

Jean-Paul said he didn't remember that remark. "But….do you think it might be true?" he asked, his voice aghast.

"I don't know. When we were near earth, I tried to find out from the news, but good old GenCore never tells you anything. I couldn't track down any of the underground sources. But…you think about it, think who's practically in control of every government institution. In the US, at least, and in most of the rest of the world. I wouldn't be surprised if it's true, if not in the US then probably in several other countries."

In the darkness of our room, I could see that Jean-Paul was really taken aback by this. Me and my big mouth, as if he didn't have enough on his mind. He seemed too shocked to speak for a bit. "When we get closer to earth," he finally said, "we must find out if this is true. And we must do something. They are our people."

We both then let that subject drop but we kept talking for a long while afterwards. Jean-Paul didn't speak anymore about what the soldiers did to him. I sensed maybe he wanted to stay off that topic and I had to respect that since there wouldn't be any sense in forcing him to discuss more than he wanted. So we chattered about nothing in particular since we both knew we weren't falling back asleep anytime soon.

I eventually did drift off….but woke up less than an hour later to the buzzing of the alarm which jarred me awake from my sleep. I had bridge duty early in the morning, and every muscle in my body protested as I forced myself from the bed to the shower. Jean-Paul insisted on accompanying me to the bridge and helping me remain awake, but I told him it wasn't necessary and that he should get his rest. So I headed off for the bridge with him still back in our room. But after less than a half hour into my shift, he appeared, carrying a tray pilled high with breakfast for two.

"We are nearing the end of the first trimester," Hank said to Panda one day in the infirmary. "I am truly fascinated. You still experience no nausea?"

"You might be fascinated; I'm just glad," Panda replied. "Morning sickness is the one thing I can do without. No, Hank, out of the list of things you said I might expect, the only one I feel is….um, the slight bowel irregularity. Other than that, I would hardly know that I'm pregnant, except for the fact that my little monthly visitor isn't here anymore. And that you insisted I get a pregnancy test."

"In two more weeks, we can have an amniocentesis," Hank said eagerly.

"What's this we'?" Panda jokingly asked. "I haven't seen you up on that exam table in stirrups. And I can't really say I'm looking forward to getting a needle stuck through my abs. But yes, I'm looking forward to it too, just for the reason that we can get to take a look at the little one."

Hank was smiling and too delighted to be upset by Panda's little jests. "I eagerly await the results of the amniocentesis. We can ensure that the child is progressing well."

"And find out if it's a boy or girl," Panda said. "Not that I really care one way or the other, but it would be nice to know and start picking out some names."

"I completely agree, my love."

With each passing week, Hank became more and more fascinated by Panda's pregnancy. It had been exciting enough when he had helped both Jubilee and Jean along with their pregnancies. Now his own wife (and he still could not get used to the fact that he had a wife) was pregnant, and carrying his own child. Though feeling a hint of trepidation, mostly Hank was excited at what the future would hold.

"If the baby's big and furry, I'll love him or her just the same," Panda declared.

"As will I," Hank added. He then furrowed his brow. He and Panda had discussed, many times now, the possibility that not only would their child be a mutant, but maybe one with an unconventional appearance like themselves. He had thought that they both had resolved to completely accept, and even welcome, such a child. So why would Panda reiterate that now?

"Are you experiencing some nervousness?" Hank perceptively asked. "Perhaps some worries about the appearance of the baby, that he or she might resemble us?"

Panda sighed. "It's not necessarily that, Hank. That's part of it. I think a lot of it's just general worries you have when you're pregnant. I've been talking a lot with Jean and Jubilee---I'm so glad they're both here. They're saying it's normal to worry every now and then about the health of the baby."

Hank reached for Panda's furry hand and held it. Panda continued, "It's okay," she said, giving a slight smile. "I'm not really worried a lot. Just a little. And if the baby does look like us, that will be fine. Sometimes, though, it's hard….thinking that if we ever get things on earth to really change and can settle there again, and thinking of all the pain we went through growing up. If we ever do return to earth, the child will experience that same pain."

The couple looked at each other. Once their bodies had started outwardly manifesting their mutations, during their teenage years, school had turned into a living nightmare for both of them with constant taunting from their classmates. Though both had found solace in their studies and through the support of a close friend or two, the teenage years had been excruciatingly difficult for them. Panda searched Hank's eyes, knowing that he was thinking back to exactly the sort of memories she was.

"Our child will have several advantages that we did not possess," Hank said. "We are both mutants. We can help prepare the child for reactions from people."

"Yeah," Panda said. "My family just didn't know what to do with me. I think they really wanted to help, but they were just as freaked out as everyone else was, wondering what they'd done wrong."

Hank nodded. "My family reacted similarly. However, our child will grow up surrounded by an extended family of mutants, with role models who have unusual appearances."

"Yes." She paused. "Hey, Hank…..you don't think that anyone thinks….that it's wrong for us to have children? I mean, not mutant-haters but any of the people here? You ever wonder if they're thinking that we shouldn't have kids because we might pass our particular mutations on to them?"

Hank had been an X-man for many years and he held his adoptive family in high regards. He also had a general practice of assuming the best of others. "I highly doubt it," he said. "And if they do wish to pass judgement on us…." Hank was momentarily at a loss for words, not liking that thought one bit, "…if they do, I will be willing to discuss with them at length why it is up to you and I exclusively to decide whether we want to procreate, and that this matter is not subject to debate by others!" Hank paused. He wasn't angry, though the thought disturbed him. "Panda….has anyone insinuated such with you?"

"No, no," Panda quickly said. "Not at all. I just wonder sometimes, you know?"

Panda was not being entirely truthful---she just didn't want Hank to have to hear more of this. A few days before the X-men departed on the mission, she had overheard one of the An'zhinans making a comment to the effect that she and Hank should not have children for that very reason. What made it almost worse is that the comment hadn't been made nastily….the person had calmly and simply stated that it didn't make sense for them to reproduce if the risk of them passing on their particular mutation ran high. Panda could not recall the name of the young man who had spoken, though she did recall his Brittish accent. Panda was therefore almost certain he'd been one of the mutants rescued along with Panda herself, from the X-men's first rescue mission in England.

"We cannot speculate as to the thoughts in other people's minds. We must simply assume the best of our teammates," Hank stated.

"Sounds good to me," Panda said, glad to drop the subject.

TO BE CONTINUED

Your feedback is a warm and nourishing soup for my soul. (Okay, sorry that was cheesy.) Please send it anyway to: stormkprusa.net

I know I mentioned it last time, but I really loved **_Lord of the Rings._** The whole movie was amazing, but especially one certain elf archer.

One more thing and then I'll shut up….I know this section was kinda light on Storm-Wolverine (and Rogue-Remy), but I promise more to come. Thanks for reading. J

Chapter 20

Chapter 22 


	22. Chapter 22

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 22

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 22

After finishing a session in the reconstructed Danger Room, Rogue and Gambit exited that part of the gym. They then entered the main portion of the gymnasium to get in a little extra training, Gambit selecting weight lifting and Rogue opting for jogging around the track.

Given that Rogue was practically indestructible, she knew that she did not need to train outside of the Danger Room quite as intensely as some of the others. However, all X-men had to be prepared to defend themselves and fight should their powers be taken from them by collars or another means. Occasionally Rogue and some of the others would put a collar on and lift weights or practice sparring one-on-one. For most of the X-men, the act of willingly donning a collar was a struggle in and of itself as they carried such horrific memories with them. It was always a mixed feeling for Rogue. The collars brought painful memories, yes, but also pleasurable ones as she and Gambit had used them to their advantage before Rogue had gotten a handle on her powers. She would never forget the evening on the Paradise Planet where she had very willingly placed a collar on herself so that she and Gambit could experience their skin-to-skin, mouth-to-mouth genuine wet kiss.

That day, however, one of the more unpleasant memories resurfaced for Rogue as she jogged around the track and spotted the former FOH soldier entering the gym. Feeling not the least bit winded and wondering whether she should have worn a collar for this portion of her training, Rogue eyed Mark. He got to work, cleaning out the pool and then setting about tidying up the rest of the gym, moving discarded equipment back to the storage area. Rogue eventually sprinted over to where Gambit was pumping iron.

"What's he doin'?" Rogue asked Gambit quietly, gesturing at Mark.

"Looks like he doin' more cleanin,'" Gambit observed.

"I thought his probation was over and that he'd done all of that 'community service' stuff."

Gambit shrugged. "Maybe he be bored and wanna do more to help. Dat is supposed to be why he's here---to help us. An' he must get bored too since he don't spend half the day training like we do."

Rogue crossed her arms over her chest. "Maybe he feels guilty over all the mutants he tortured and wants to make his sorry ass feel less guilty."

"Dat may be so." Gambit turned and looked at Rogue's eyes. "At leas' he wants to do the right t'ing, wants to help us. He could be resting on dat moon, playin' cards in the rec room instead of working in a starship with fifteen people who suspicious of him an' exclude him."

Rogue bit her tongue just in time to keep from making a remark like, You're always too sweet on him.' She had no wish to begin another quarrel with Gambit, especially since they'd fought about Mark in the past. The couple had also patched up their last argument and had basically arrived at an agreement to not discuss Gambit's past love life. Rogue knew she had to accept it. And Gambit knew he had to let go of his own anger at Rogue's resentment of the past.

"Yeah, you got a point there, Swamp Rat," Rogue admitted.

"I got an idea, chere. Let's invite Mark to have dinner wit' us. In our quarters some evening. We could get to know him better. Storm says she's sat wit' him in the mess hall for meals an' dat Mark's a nice guy. Bobby said the same t'ing once too."

Rogue mulled over that for a second, slowly exhaling. She then touched a hand to one of Gambit's arms. "Gambit…sugar, I ain't ready for doin' something like that right yet. Maybe later, okay? If I gotta accept that he's here, then fine. But I ain't really ready to become friends with him."

Gambit nodded. The idea had really just popped into his head and he'd regretted it the moment he'd finished speaking. But Rogue's levelheaded and fair response impressed him. He thought that maybe she was truly coming to accept Mark's presence.

"We are now approximately ten days from earth," Cyclops addressed the X-men. The group was sitting at a table in one of the conference rooms. Only five of the ship's inhabitants were absent from this meeting that Cyclops and Storm had called---- Jeanne-Marie sat on bridge duty and Mark was babysitting the three children in the rec room.

Jean and Cyclops trusted Mark to the extent that they were fully comfortable having him look after their children. Jean knew for certain that he did not pose a threat to them, and Charlotte quite clearly liked him. And Jubilee felt that if Jean and Scott trusted him with their children, she could certainly have Mark look after Rory as well. Like most of the X-men, Jubilee hadn't ever really sat down with Mark or made a strong effort to get to know him. But she knew that Jean and Bobby had both had conversations with him and that Jean's powers wouldn't fail in their assessment of him.

"When will you be within telepathic range?" Bobby asked Jean.

"Probably within six to eight days," Jean replied. "I will begin my work as soon as I can start sensing minds on earth and finding those of the FOH leadership. Once I have the connection established, I will want to seclude myself in a conference room. I'll be doing some intense work, and it's best if my concentration won't be interrupted by anything."

"Take it dat means Cyke will be doin' all the babysitting den," Gambit quipped.

"Yes," Jean smiled, and turned to look at her husband. "The kids will be yours, dear…..until it's Christopher's feeding time."

Scott returned Jean's smile. "My pleasure." He enjoyed spending virtually all of his free time with the children.

Beast watched the couple's exchange and saw the look of devotion and pride on Cyclops's face. He noted that in the years he had known Cyclops, the X-men leader definitely had mellowed and softened a bit since becoming a father. I wonder how fatherhood will change me,' Beast speculated.

"How long will the process take?" Shaman asked Jean.

Jean shrugged. "That is really the unknown here. The first step requires me to sort through literally billions of minds on earth and locate those of the FOH leadership. That one step could potentially take hours or days. Remember I have never met any of these people face-to-face, so I don't have any kind of mental signature' to go off of. Once I do establish a connection, I will then need to enter their minds and subtly do some work---feeding them ideas, changing thoughts and beliefs that are very strongly held. I expect some of their minds and wills to be weak, and others to be very strong." She paused. "It's really hard to get an accurate time estimate but I would say at the very least it will take three or four days, and potentially much longer."

"Would it be easier if I teleported down and brought the leaders to you one by one?" Nightcrawler asked.

"No," Cyclops answered, "we want to use stealth in this mission----the leaders' absences would be noticed."

"And this is supposed to be a low risk mission," Wolverine said. "Once we start bringin' the bastards on board the ship, we're really uping the risks."

Nightcrawler nodded. The room was then silent for a few moments until Storm spoke. "There might be wisdom in going slowly," Storm said. "In taking all the time that you need, Jean, to complete this. If the FOH leaders change their behavior, it will certainly be noticed. The less suspicion aroused, the better. And change does take time. I think we need to allow this to be somewhat gradual."

More nods were exchanged at the table and the room was silent for a bit more. "What 'bout Emma Frost?" Rogue piped up. "Last we heard, she's workin' for FOH. And on the last mission, she caused us major trouble. She really interfered with what the Professor was doin'."

Jean took a breath. "I expect her to be my biggest challenge. Charles and I had several conversations about this on An'zhina, and I feel that I have some understanding as to the extent of her powers. If she's on a par with the Professor, then she's on a par with me, obviously. She's the one dangerous element I see in this mission."

"She's gonna let FOH know we're out here," Wolverine said.

"All we can do in that case," Cyclops said, "is remain cloaked, and continually change our position."

"And hope that the Friends of Humanity have not improved their cloaking detection technology," Beast added.

"If they have, we will warp away from earth. We'll have to, since we designed this to be a low-risk mission."

"Can Emma pigeon-hole our location?" Rogue asked.

"I've wondered about that a lot," Jean said. "I wondered if I myself were on a planet, and I sensed a dozen minds floating in space….it might take me some time, and it would be much easier if I were in a starship myself, but I think I could find them eventually."

The room was silent for a moment. "Therefore we still must use the utmost caution at all times," Hank concluded.

"Well said," Storm commented. "Does anyone have any more questions or items to go over for the group?"

"I got one," Wolverine said. All eyes in the room turned to him, in wonderment of what he might say. "If this mission don't work, I wanna return to earth."

Gasps were made and eyebrows raised. "What?" Bobby asked.

"We been biding our time too damn long, not making any difference for mutants on earth. If this don't work, I wanna beam back down and start leading an underground resistance against the bastards. I'll go by myself. We gotta start a rebellion, or find people who already are workin' against FOH."

"He has a point," Shaman said. "FOH has so much control over the governments and media of many different countries. Surely we're not the only people who oppose them, who see them for what they really are."

"The time you and the twins spent on earth," Wolverine began, looking at Shaman, "didja see any sorta resistance?"

"Not really," Shaman admitted. "But please remember we spent months lying low in the Canadian wilderness, trying to locate our families and stay away from FOH---we didn't actively seek a resistance since we were so focussed on surviving day to day."

"But we did receive some help," Northstar said. "There were a few churches and other groups that helped us out, hiding us, getting us provisions. We slept in a lot of church basements over the months."

"Yes," Shaman said, "they did assist us quite a bit but I never sensed that they were part of an organized network of resisters. My impression was that they viewed us as charity and helped us because they took pity on us."

"There gotta be people who want the FOH out. I'll find 'em." Wolverine vowed.

Storm listened to the exchange taking place, scarcely believing her ears. She saw others' expressions mirroring her surprise and dismay, as Wolverine and Shaman engaged in their dialog. Well, perhaps I should not be surprised,' she thought. It's not as though Wolverine and I have even sat down and had a good conversation anytime recently.'

Jean spotted Storm's concern. She herself did not like the idea of Wolverine forming a one-man resistance one bit. "Wait a second here," Jean began. "Before we talk about forming an underground resistance, can't we see how this mission goes first?"

"Jean's sure got a point," Rogue said. "If it goes well, we ain't gonna need a resistance on earth."

Wolverine grumbled, "You jus' said it's gonna take time."

Jean nodded. "Yes. But we might see a massive change, if we are patient." Jean paused. She looked around the table and then steadily met the gaze of the man who had once loved her very much and with whom she shared a mutual deep caring. Cyclops saw the look that Jean and Wolverine held for an instant and almost reeled. He recovered quickly, knowing and feeling Jean's love for him.

"I know these last few years have been very difficult for you, Logan," Jean said to Wolverine. Somehow she made her voice reflect only caring; no condescension was intended and none came across. "I know you like to separate yourself from the pack, so to speak, at times and I know you like to solve things…on your own and with the direct approach. These last few years, we X-men have practically been spending every waking moment together, and no one's really had the chance to go off on their own. And we've made only very slow progress on earth, saving a few groups of mutants at a time. But please, Logan….please wait just a little bit longer before considering relocating to earth."

Wolverine was silent for several seconds, and then he nodded. "Alright. I'll wait it out some more an' see what happens with this one."

Storm again observed, her heart pulsing. Of course,' Storm reflected, 'Jean asks him to stay with us, so he does. Had I asked, nothing would've happened and he would gladly have gone off.' She then cut off that train of thought. Ororo, you sound like a jealous schoolgirl again. You've already come to accept the that he doesn't love you.' She squeezed her eyes shut and thought, If he did leave this group, I would miss him so. I hope he doesn't change his mind about this.'

"Remy, I keep sayin' we gotta beat some sense into that Canucklehead, and I mean it!" Rogue exclaimed, sometime after the meeting had ended that day.

"I know it, chere. I know," Gambit said as they entered their quarters. Gambit removed his duster and casually tossed it onto the chair.

"What's this talk 'bout wanting to go off on his own?! I thought we learned from bein' X-men that there ain't any one-man cavalry here. We work best when we're a team," Rogue said, thoroughly enjoying venting.

Gambit shook his head. "If I go beat some sense into him, it be 'bout his treatment of Storm. He don't treat his lady right."

"Well, she ain't his lady' anymore, for one thing," Rogue grumbled. "Though if he had half a brain, she would be."

"You see how sad Storm look when he made dat comment about wanting to leave?" Gambit asked, his voice reflecting disgust.

"What the hell's it gonna take to make Mr. Stubborn Ass wake up and smell the hash browns??" Neither had the answer, but Rogue was coming closer and closer to deciding on approaching Wolverine.

One afternoon, the day after that last meeting, I found myself in the rec room, playing with the three kids. Jubilee was with me; Jean and Scott asked us to look after Christopher and Charlotte for just a bit as they finished up a training session.

"If Wolvie tries to leave us for some crazy, one-man rescue mission on earth, I'm gonna restrain him myself," Jubilee declared.

I smiled at the thought of her attempting to. "Maybe if enough of us tried," I joked, "we could. I could ice him. That might hold him for a bit. But I think we might need either the strength of Rogue or Jean's telekinetic powers to really hold him back."

"Well, he's not goin' back to earth, damn it! And I told him that myself this morning." Jubilee then paused and asked, "Are we crazy for doing this?"

"Crazy for talking about restraining Wolverine?" I asked.

"No, dumbass. For going back to earth!" she said. "We're going back to earth, when on our last mission, you all were almost killed. And when two missions ago, you, and Wolvie and Gambit got captured and transported half-way across the galaxy. It's a miracle we ever found you guys again. Why do we do this??"

I opened my mouth to speak but then I thought it would be meaningless to repeat the line about this mission being ultra-safe. We'd all heard it and said it a thousand times. "I know," I said. "There's always a chance something's gonna go wrong. When you're working to change the world, and you're going up something as powerful as FOH, who knows what sort of trouble's going to follow? I think we're lucky things haven't been worse," I added, but then regretted the words as I felt a jolt of pain. Colossus was killed, Storm and Northstar were both assaulted….and that was just on our last mission.

"How's Northstar doing?" Jubilee asked.

I was quiet for a moment and then replied. "He's ok. He's nervous though….I can tell. I tried once or twice to get him to talk about it, but he doesn't seem to want to." Then I added, "But he talked about it with his sister though. I heard them by the pool one day, and he did admit to her that he's nervous about another run-in with FOH. Even though we say we're not going to confront them this time."

"I can't say I blame him."

"I couldn't blame any of us for feeling nervous. I think it's natural for us to."

Jubilee looked at little Aurora, who was sitting side-by-side with Charlotte as each girl played with her own toy. "I'm going back into total guilt now," Jubilee said. "Like Jean needs to be on this mission 'cause she's this awesome telepath. I always feel so left out when I stay behind on An'zhina, so I wanted to go again. I always miss you guys when you're gone. And I figured that if it's safe enough for Jean and Scott to bring their kids, then it's safe enough for Aurora and me."

"I'm sure you're right about that," I insisted. Little Christopher was in the rec room with us, though his nap time was approaching and I knew he'd be falling asleep any minute since he was fading fast. He was parked in a stroller/crib type thing, and earlier Charlotte had been making a fuss over her brother.

"But I wonder again, you know? Am I being a bad mom---did I pick what was right for Rory or right for me?"

"Maybe you picked what was right for both of you. Look at how the two of them play together," I said, gesturing at the girls. "Didn't you say they really missed each other last time you went on a mission and Jean stayed at home? It's good for them to be together. There aren't any other kids on An'zhina."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. And I'm sure this mission's not gonna be that dangerous. But I'm a mom now, so I have to worry."

"I think you're doing a great job with the mom thing and have nothing to feel guilty over or worry over. So please don't ever like beat yourself up, Jubilee."

"I do sometimes, though. Like…." she broke off, and look a pointed look at the girls. "Like, you notice that Charlotte is more advanced than Rory? She talks more, strings words together way better. She walked before Rory walked. She already shows her powers."

"Jubes, making a comparison isn't going to do you any good. Why get hung up on it? I thought I heard that kids develop at all different rates."

"But Char is three months younger!"

"Well, so? I mean, I'm not like an expert on this stuff or anything but three months is not a lot of time. Besides…you really think people are sitting around, keeping a score card and comparing how fast the girls are growing?"

"Well, I can't help but-----" Jubilee began but was cut off by Charlotte. She began wailing and screaming some of the most horrible sounds I'd heard in a long time. I'd certainly never heard her screech like this before. Knowing the toddler had the power of empathy, I wondered if she was upset at our conversation, but I knew from hearing and looking at her, it had to be more than that. It had to be something a lot bigger and more upsetting than that. She was wailing in agony, as if someone were beating her senseless. Charlotte flailed her arms and legs as if she were having some sort of fit.

Jubilee ran over to Charlotte and held her, trying to calm the girl down. Charlotte continued to scream and cry. All I could do was place my hands over my ears at the ghastly sound. It really was freaky hearing the kid make such bone-shattering noises. Adding to the cacophony, when Charlotte started howling, Rory and Christopher soon joined her in crying, though they cried normal baby tears and not the yelling of the banshee that Charlotte was letting out. Fortunately, Jean Grey dashed into the rec room, with Scott soon behind her. Jubilee gladly handed Charlotte over to Jean, and Jean held her daughter, tying to calm her down.

"HURT!" Charlotte yelled at the top of her young lungs. "PAAAAIN!"

Jean shut her eyes and seemed to concentrate. Within the space of a few seconds, Charlotte was quiet. She appeared to be asleep or unconscious. "I put her to sleep," Jean explained. She was visibly shaken as all of us were. Cyclops was holding Christopher and Jubilee then picked up her own child. When they saw that Charlotte was quiet, Aurora and Chris soon stopped their own crying. Jean went on, "I had to put her mind to sleep, not just her body. It's like I had to put her mind on hold."

At some point during the chaos, Wolverine had entered the rec room. Despite the thickness of the walls, I'd guess he could hear the commotion. I think Charlotte's noises had been loud enough to wake the dead. "What's goin' on?" he asked, as Jean was setting Charlotte down to rest on one of the couches. Charlotte now looked as if she were taking a peaceful nap.

"What's wrong with her?" Scott asked, obviously very alarmed and even scared. "Never in my life have I heard her scream like that!"

"I don't think I've ever heard anything like that, period," Jubilee said. "It was like she was screaming bloody murder."

Jean shut her eyes briefly and took a breath. "We're now within telepathic range of earth," she said. "Freedom is now close enough that I can sense that there are billions of minds nearby. If I were to concentrate, I could start entering those minds right now."

"So was it the shock of it all?" I asked. "Is it because Charlotte's never been around billions of minds before and----" I stopped in my tracks. "Oh, but of course she has. Endaria has millions of citizens on its planet and the other moons. An'zhina's a lot closer to them then we are now to earth."

"Yeah, so why didn't it freak her out back then?" Jubilee asked.

Jean shook her head. Scott set Christopher, who was now quiet again, back inside his crib and put an arm around his wife. "It's a lot more than that," Jean said. "You're right, Bobby, that she has been in sensing range of millions of minds before. It's not the number of minds that overwhelmed her….it was what they were feeling." Jean said that last phrase with particular emphasis.

Scott nodded. "Charlotte senses people's emotions," he said, looking at Jean. "I bet she was overwhelmed when she suddenly tapped into the emotions of six---or is it seven now?---billion people and found so much grief."

"Exactly," Jean said, quietly and grimly. "When I touched Charlotte's mind, she couldn't deal with all the….misery. There's no other word for it. That's what so many of the six billion minds are feeling right this instant." Jean shook her head again, clearly awed and disquieted by what her daughter had been through.

Wolverine then spoke, and I was a bit surprised by his words. "Hank would know the quote I got on my mind now an' who said it. Something 'bout we all lead lives of quiet desperation.'"

"Yes," Jean said, sounding distant and somewhat overwhelmed herself. "When I touched Charlotte's mind, she was overwhelmed with feelings of….depression, of shame….anger….hopelessness….numbness. Fear---a lot of naked fear. And exhaustion, mental and physical. Oh god, it was awful! Millions and even billions of people feeling these things. That's why I had to mentally put her on hold for now. She hasn't dealt with it before." Scott pulled Jean closer to him.

"But….but don't most Endarians don't feel this stuff too?" Jubilee asked.

"They do, at times," Jean answered, now sounding more like herself. "I've read quite a bit about the Endarians during the time I've lived on An'zhina. Sure----everyone there feels sad or angry at times. But it's not….it's not endemic like it is on earth."

"The conditions there are different," Scott said. "They have a society that makes happiness a lot easier than it is back on earth. On earth, there's widespread war and poverty—everywhere. I read once---years before we left---that some 40,000 people on earth died every day of hunger-related causes. That alone….." he seemed to lose his train of thought, perhaps getting wrapped up in what his wife and daughter were going through. "The conditions on Endaria are totally different. They don't have war and they don't allow millions of people to go hungry or to be sick. I think the way their society is structured leads to less depression than on earth."

I looked around at the faces in the room. Jean's words were sinking in. There was a lot of misery on earth, and I'm sure we'd all known that. I couldn't say I was at all surprised at the realization that most of the billions of people on the planet were suffering. I had suffered so much in my own life, so many years of self-loathing and depression and of considering suicide---and I had never even experienced poverty or starvation or war. Probably everyone else standing in that room had felt those types of feelings too. All of us had been through our own hells. We were all quiet for a while.

"What about Charlotte?" Jubilee asked Jean. All eyes turned to the toddler on the sofa, who was now oblivious to us, to everything.

"I'm going to take her into our room and sit with her for a bit," Jean said. "I'll slowly wake' her consciousness up and see what I can do to buffer her from earth until she can accept it and deal with it. She can build up a tolerance for it and learn to cut herself off from people's pain." Jean paused, looked upwards, and then added, reflectively, "Don't we all cut ourselves off from it, to save our sanity." She then reached for Charlotte. "This might take some time." With that, Jean and Scott scooped up their children and left the rec room. I watched them leave, and then turned to Jubilee and Wolverine. Jubilee was still holding the now-silent Aurora within her arms.

"That kid's got the only sane reaction," Wolverine muttered, as he left Jubilee and I standing in the room.

We were now about a week away from earth and had slowed Freedom down so that we no longer were warping towards the planet. We didn't need to expend the dilithium since we were within telepathic range, as Charlotte had so brutally found out the day before. On impulse power, we drifted in the direction of earth.

It was a time of waiting for all of us, except Jean Grey. The mission revolved around her, yet obviously she couldn't do anything with changing FOH leaders' minds until Charlotte's condition was stabilized. The morning after the incident in the rec room, Cyclops reported to the rest of us over breakfast that teaching a two-year old how to block out the agonies of billions of minds has been more difficult than the couple expected. Until Jean could finish her work with Charlotte, we were in a holding pattern.

That evening, a small group of us had decided to throw a party in my and Northstar's room. We were bored of waiting and getting restless, so we decided to indulge in a few illegalities. My fellow partyers consisted of Jubilee, Jeanne-Marie, Dani Moonstar, and--of course--Jean-Paul. (We had invited Rogue and Remy, too, but they declined. I'm sure they held their own two-person party in their room. Maybe it even involved tying Gambit up. :) It wasn't like we had planned this to exclude anyone, either---it's just that Moonstar, Jeanne-Marie and I had gotten to talking at dinner that evening and got this idea to blow off some steam. Jubilee walked by our table and said she wanted in on this.

So the five of us started the party (after Jubilee's daughter Aurora had fallen asleep and Jubilee had left the girl in their room.) We replicated pizza and played CDs in the background. That part wasn't illegal, but I snuck into a room with a replicator and made some contraband booze for us. All of us drank heavily.

The five of us sat around on the floor of the room, drinking and talking, and playing dirty games like "True Confessions." I'm not sure if a game by that name ever existed before but Dani came up with it and we went with it. Right from the start, you knew there was going to be a lot of sexual bantering with a game that goes by this name. No one actually did anything sexual that drunken night but we basically talked about sex the whole time. We ended up confessing secret fantasies, describing in great detail our first times, etc, etc. I was so drunk, though, I don't recall most of what was said. But I do remember Jeanne-Marie at one point demonstrating a blow job by giving one to an empty bottle, and that I had declared I could do it better and gave my own demonstration on the same bottle. Moonstar described in great detail the exact size and shape of her favorite dildo and said she was way pissed that it was left back on earth somewhere. She also told us about her first time, which occurred when she was sixteen, and said that the other girl had braces and got them caught in Dani's pubic hair at one point. Ouch!

I remember Jubilee staggering out of the room at some early hour of the morning, and Moonstar and Jeanne-Marie stumbling out together not long afterwards. I woke up with a splitting headache.

After the next morning's Danger Room session, Cyclops pulled Bobby aside. "Bobby, what's wrong?" he asked. "You look horrible."

"I'm sorry, Cyke," Bobby muttered. "I'm just not feeling too well. I've got a terrible headache." Bobby had to really focus to even get the words out; his hangover drained him of so much energy. He had only gotten about four hours of sleep the previous night before as well. As soon as he'd pulled on his uniform and made his way to the Danger Room, he knew it would be a struggle to keep the ice shooting from his fingertips, let along actually hitting a target.

"You can stop for the day. Resume training tomorrow morning," Cyclops brusquely ordered. He looked at the clipboard he held. "You have a bridge duty session after dinner. Do you think you will be up to it by then?"

Bobby strained to think. "I guess so," he managed. 'After dinner' was so far into the future, he didn't even want to focus on it. All he could think of was laying back down and hoping the headache would go away.

Cyclops shook his head as Bobby made his way out of the gym. I might as well be looking at the Bobby of fifteen years ago,' he thought, a tad disgusted. Where did all that progress we made go?' Scott knew he would have to check in on the Iceman's bridge shift too, to ensure he really was alert enough to be playing this important role. Jean would say I gotta give the guy a break,' Scott thought to himself, trying to be fair. And she's right. Today Bobby's just having an off-day. His training ever since he returned to the X-men, though, has been pretty good. I'll cut him some slack….this once.'

A few hours later, however, Cyclops was on the bridge, performing a routine scan of the replicator patterns used on the ship. He liked to ensure they were making good use of their precious dilithium supply. After all, the X-men had enough dilithium to last them several more years—and they had found that moon with a nearly endless supply a while ago---, but all the warp drive they used really depleted the supply and it was still advisable for them to conserve at all times.

The scan of the replicator logs showed nothing out of the ordinary….people were allowed toiletries and personal items as needed, of course. They were also allowed non-necessary items as reasonable. (Storm had long-ago defined reasonable' as, "As long as you're not abusing the system." Cyclops had preferred a more strict definition but, in the group's early days in space, truly no one had really abused the system, to Cyclops's knowledge, so he'd been satisfied.)

An entry from the previous evening caught Scott's eye however. Pizza---three large thin-crust pizzas, to be precise. One with just cheese, one with sausage, and one with mushrooms, green peppers, and onions. That's okay,' Scott thought to himself. The group is allowed a bit of a splurge. Maybe a few people took these pizzas into the rec room and had a little party yesterday.' Scott had been with Jean and the kids, of course, then. As long as this doesn't happen every day, I'm sure we're fine,' he thought, fighting his urge to be stricter.

The next entry, however, was not to be easily excused. Alcohol, and lots of it. Several different types of drinks, all with real alcohol; none of it virgin. Cyclops's first impulse was to accuse Gambit and Rogue….but then suddenly Bobby's miserable Danger Room session in the morning made sense. Scott had seen the symptoms before: Iceman had a hangover. Scott punched a few more buttons on the computer and found that the code used to enter the request had indeed been Bobby's.

Storm then arrived at the bridge for her shift. "Hello, Cyclops," she said.

"Hi, Storm," he replied, though still looking at the computer screen in front of him.

"I know I'm a little early for my shift, but I wanted to start that diagnostic on the navigation systems. We're due for one."

"I know," Scott said.

"I'm going to begin work with Mark later today, to teach him how to run some of these tests." Storm and Cyclops had discussed earlier that Mark was performing well in his role as helper, and he'd asked if he could do anything more. Storm and Cyclops had agreed to expand his role and leverage his willingness to do more.

Cyclops nodded in response to Storm's words.

"You look preoccupied, Cyclops. Is something disturbing you?"

He took a deep breath. "Yes," he said. "Looks like Bobby's been abusing the food replicator. He replicated himself some booze yesterday evening."

"Really?" Storm asked, stepping behind Scott to get a good look at the screen. "I see that he also made himself a lot of pizza too. Hmmmmm. I wonder if something's wrong and he's slipping into depression again. Usually, as I recall, he does not necessarily drink or eat to excess when he's depressed, but I wonder if his behavior might be changing." From her tone, it was obvious that Storm was concerned about Bobby.

Scott opened his mouth to give a reflex reply, but on second thought, decided to keep silent. Several thoughts ran through his head, but the most prevalent one was the different way he and Storm had reacted to the same situation. Cyclops tried to picture himself and the scenario as a third party might. Wow,' he thought, his old insecurities creeping back in. She really is an amazing leader. I was all really to go reprimand Bobby, while she's more concerned about his well-being. Why can't that be my first reaction, instead of wanting to give Bobby a lecture? I assumed the pizza and alcohol were for a party, but maybe Bobby really is upset about something.' His thoughts then took a more somber turn. No wonder the group prefers Storm….' Cyclops was so dejected by that mental pathway, he simply looked down and said, "Yeah, I hope he's okay."

"I will talk to him today," Storm vowed. "As soon as my shift is over. That is….unless you wanted to."

"No," Cyclops said, "no….I think it would be better if you did it. Thanks for offering, Storm."

Jean Grey had a very full schedule. After nearly two full days had passed from the moment Freedom had flown close enough to earth to reach telepathic range, Jean finally succeeded in calming her daughter. Charlotte was now able to function, her psyche now trained to "ignore" the emotional states of the billions on earth. As soon as that was accomplished, Jean set about taking a long, well-deserved nap. When she was re-energized, she set about the task at hand: locating the FOH leaders and changing their minds. As she had predicted, it was a slow process.

Meanwhile, the rest of the X-men continued about their business. Many were interested in the happenings on earth and, as they now had quite a bit of leisure time, set about searching for news reports. Bobby located an underground website, one which published news not made available through the company which owned the media, GenCore.

Northstar entered the mess hall that evening for dinner and sat down next to Bobby. "Did you have any luck in finding a good news source today?" he asked, getting right down to business. Bobby sat a table with Nightcrawler, Cannonball, Rogue, and Gambit who were all engaged in another discussion and not listening to Northstar and Iceman's exchange.

"Yes," Bobby began glumly. He had some news to share with his partner, and it was not to be any sort of good news.

"What is it?" Northstar asked, knowing the look on Bobby's face did not bode well.

"What we talked about the other night…it's true," Bobby mumbled.

Northstar knew exactly what was on Bobby's mind. "You mean….you mean they really are rounding up gays and putting them in camps?" Northstar asked, his heart sinking.

"Yes. The news source said that the Centers for Disease Control and the UN set this policy up a few months ago. They apparently have been raiding membership lists of gay groups and raiding gay bars, and rounding up the men. They say the quarantine is temporary until the spread of AIDS can be contained', or some bullshit like that. The report also said they're rounding up any gay guy they can get their hands on, regardless of whether he's actually got HIV or not. The 'quarantine' is in effect in the US, Canada, most countries in Africa, and throughout Southeast Asia."

"Merde," Northstar swore under his breath. "How dare they? As if we're the only group that gets AIDS! And if they hadn't ignored it for so long, we probably wouldn't have millions dying of the disease in the first place!" A few heads at the table turned in Northstar's direction, but he continued on, oblivious. He did, however, pause for a moment to fight to regain some calm. Looking at Bobby, he asked, "Do we know anything about these….what are they being called? The camps where the men are being held?"

"I can't remember the official term," Bobby said. "But the news report didn't go into any detail. They said very little is known about this. They estimated the number of men who've been rounded up in North America is maybe 1-2,000. They said they have no idea how many in Africa or Asia but expect it to be much higher."

Northstar fought to keep his breathing under control. "We can't stand for this, Bobby! We cannot! We must talk to Cyclops and Storm at once….what am I saying? We must talk to Storm at once about this and see what can be done!"

Northstar was cut off when all eyes in the room turned towards Hank and Panda. The happy couple had bounded into the mess hall moments ago, bearing pictures of their child in utero. Panda had underwent amniocentesis that day. "We're going to have a boy!" Panda said. She went on to talk about the rest of the test results. "Everything is progressing well, the baby's in good, healthy condition. We're thrilled!" Standing next to her, Hank beamed with pride. Panda generally had a calm, take-everything-in-stride countenance, so it was a switch to hear her so animated and excited.

The mood in the room switched to a celebratory one, and Northstar--- through an act of strong will and counter to his instincts---put his anger aside. He wanted to be sincerely happy for Bobby's dearest friend and Panda. No one was more relieved of that than Bobby. He knew that he and Jean-Paul were heading for a heated disagreement at best.

When Panda and Hank arrived at their table, Bobby merrily gushed over the grainy, dark photos of the fetus and asked them numerous questions, engaging them in detailed conversation. Northstar noted how delighted Hank and Panda appeared at Bobby's interest in their impending arrival. But Northstar knew that Bobby had an ulterior motive----deflecting the conversation the two of them had been having.

Northstar, however, vowed to discuss with Bobby the contested subject at a later date.

Wolverine entered the mess hall later than most of the others that same day, as he had to finish his bridge duty shift. The doors swung aside to reveal Panda and Hank sitting at a table with Storm, pouring over the pictures of their baby. The trio were the only ones remaining in the cafeteria by this point.

"Logan, how wonderful that you have joined us!" Hank exclaimed. "Please, sit with us and view the results of the amniocentesis!"

"Panda is carrying a boy," Storm said.

Wolverine noted that Storm's voice carried such….warmth, such genuine happiness for the couple. What a delight she was to listen to. As he took a seat at the table, he noted with a tug of dissatisfaction that Storm no longer carried the scent of his mate. In the past, when Storm had entered the room, Logan's animal instincts would automatically deliver the message to his brain that his mate had entered the room. No longer. They had been apart too long.

"A little playmate for Christopher," Panda was saying. She quickly added, "Not that he couldn't play with the girls too…but I think it's wonderful that we'll have two girls and two boys now."

"For the X-nursery," Storm added, smiling.

"Congratulations, Hank, Panda," Wolverine said. "He's gonna be one lucky little guy to have parents like you."

"Thank you."

The foursome went on to pour over the pictures and talk more about the upcoming arrival. Wolverine continued to sneak periodic glances at Storm. She don't need me,' he thought. She wouldda said somethin' or approached me, but she hasn't.' Though he would never admit it to anyone, his confidence was shot as well. Logan had suffered a crushing defeat when Sara had told him she wanted to be in a relationship with Angel. He wasn't exactly eager now to go on the prowl again.

Jean Grey's progress moved along at a slow but steady pace. Cyclops periodically reported back to the group the results of Jean's all-day sessions. "It's very strange," he said. "Jean is encountering periodic resistance from Emma Frost. She's fairly certain it is Emma," he added quickly. "The strange thing, Jean tells me, is that Emma could put up a lot more resistance….but Emma's blocking technique is very sporadic."

"Perhaps Emma is only mounting a half-hearted campaign to stop Jean," Storm suggested. "From what Mark has told us, it seems that Emma is not all that committed to FOH. Perhaps she does not really wish to hinder us."

Whatever the case, no FOH starships sprang forward to challenge the X-men. Either Emma could not pinpoint their location or she had no interest in divulging it to FOH. "It's quite possible that Emma simply can't locate us," Cyclops told the group. "Our starship is drifting several days away from earth. Space is so massive…I couldn't be surprised if Emma just doesn't know where we are. Only that we're out here."

"For all we know," Rogue said, "FOH might have a ton of cloaked ships sniffing around, trying to find us."

"Eternal vigilance," Beast added. "We know that we must be prepared at all times."

Cyclops was finding this period to be a strain as well. With Jean spending the almost all of her waking hours engaged in the psychic mission, all of the couple's childcare fell on Scott's shoulders. He loved taking care of the two children, but it was tiring work.

"I knew you weren't just going to drop this subject," I said to Jean-Paul. We were sitting on the bridge during my duty session, the day after I had discovered that back on earth, gay men were being quarantined.

"And I cannot believe how blasé you're acting about this!" he said. "It is almost as if you do not care."

"Jean-Paul, don't be ridiculous. Of course I care," I said, and I think it came through in my voice. "It really, really hurts me to think that our own kind are being rounded up into camps, just like mutants are, to stop the spread of some disease that they may or may not even have. They've done nothing wrong. It scares me and it makes me mad as hell." I paused and took a breath. "But what can we really do about it, Jean-Paul? We're here with the X-men on a stealth mission. We're not on a rescue mission now."

"Then we need to talk to Storm!" he insisted. "She would listen. I think she would be sympathetic."

"I agree she'll be sympathetic," I said, struggling to keep my voice calm and to think of a way to get through to Jean-Paul. "But what the heck is she going to do about it? I mean, there's a lot of stuff happening on earth that none of us like but, like I said, we're not on that type of mission. I'm sure there's a lot going on in Storm's native continent that troubles her, but she knows she can't get into that now. The purpose of this mission is for Jean to use her telepathy to change the mindsets of FOH leaders."

"Well that's not going to do any good for all the gay men who are being rounded up into camps!"

"It's not going to do any immediate good for mutants inside FOH camps either! We're not on a rescue mission," I repeated.

"So what do you suggest we do?" he asked, sounding both incredulous and disgusted. "Nothing??"

I shrugged. "There really is nothing we can do," I said apologetically. "We can talk to Storm and Cyke, and I'm sure they'll express some sympathy and regret over the situation----if that's what you want to hear, Jean-Paul." I kept my voice sounding gentle so that didn't came off as harsh as it could have. I continued, "But you know they're not going to authorize any sort of attack." I paused, and added," And please don't go getting any crazy ideas---you and I are not going to break away and form a gay version of the Psylocke-Marrow team."

Jean-Paul snorted at my comment and repeated, "I just cannot believe that you don't care about this."

"I do care!" I repeated.

We went around and around like that for a long time, talking in circles and not coming to any agreement. Jean-Paul wanted to do something. He kept insisting we talk to Storm, and I kept telling him there was nothing she could authorize us to do about it. After a long time of each of us repeating himself and not getting to any sort of consensus, he stomped out of the room.

That night, we went to bed not speaking to each other. (But at least sleeping in the same room…he could've gone to his own room but didn't.) After not too long the next day, we slowly began talking again, though avoiding the contentious subject. More time passed and we slowly warmed back up to each other. Apparently we'd tacitly just "agreed to disagree."

Chapter 21

Chapter 23 


	23. Chapter 23

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 23

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 23

Professor X warned us right from the start that there would be days like this,' Jean told herself while taking a rare break. She returned to the overcrowded room that she and Cyclops shared with their children and slumped down onto the bed.

Jean Grey was in the middle of some of the most involved and grueling work she'd ever done. Having connected with the minds of some of FOH's top leadership, Jean had to wade through the hatred they felt and start changing their views. Dealing with them hour after hour, day after day, made Jean tired and stressed to the bone. And although she knew the rational explanations, she still felt stunned and appalled that some people could hate so much.

The door slide aside, and Scott entered with the kids. "Mommy tired," Charlotte observed. The girl bounded onto the bed and into her mother's arms.

"Oh, sweetie, I'll be okay," Jean said. Charlotte's power of empathy was back, Jean having taught her to confine it to those whom she was physically proximate to.

"Maybe you should call it a day," Scott suggested. Jean's mind was too overloaded to feel his concern, though she knew it was there.

Jean shook her head. "It's too early in the day to quit. I just need a little break." She reached for Christopher and took him into her arms. Cuddling with her family would help her recoup --- especially since Scott was being wonderful in taking care of all the "work" that went into being a parent, and letting Jean just have the "enjoyment" part so she could focus on the job at hand.

Later on that day, Jean redoubled her efforts and she discovered something ghastly.

"Right now, there is a meeting going on of FOH's top leadership. Several FOH leaders are attempting to convince the entire organization to make a drastic change to its strategy," Jean said, fighting to keep her voice from trembling.

The X-men (except for Gambit, who was on bridge duty) sat assembled around a table in the main conference room. The table that FOH had used in its largest meeting room on board the ship had been long and rectangular, but the X-men had at one point, years ago, replicated a large round table for them to sit around. "They want to convince FOH to change from a strategy of containment to annihilation," Jean continued. "They want to convince the leadership to introduce some sort of new virus they've engineered---you'll have to excuse me, Hank, I'm a bit fuzzy on the science here----but they've created some sort of virus that can wipe us out. Once a victim is infected, a rapid death will follow."

Around the table, expressions of shock and disgust could be seen in the faces of this group of heros, who had lived through much in their lifetimes.

"Let me guess," Rogue began, "the bastards are all set with some sort of excuse, like sayin' that mutants themselves created the disease or spread it because we're all dirty. Of course they'll make like they got nothin' to do with it."

Jean nodded gravely. "Though they haven't yet worked out the details of the plan. But several higher-ups in FOH want to enact this plan right away----the virus is ready to go."

"What sort of resistance within FOH is there to this plan?" Cyclops asked.

"There is some. Not everyone is sure they want to enact this plan."

"Just think about it," Hank began, his mind whirling. "A virus can easily spread out of control, infecting mutant and human alike. Unless FOH scientists are so certain that this will 'only' hurt mutants, they could unwittingly be facing their own Armageddon."

"And the destruction of everyone on earth," Cyclops said. "If this does ever get out of control."

"We might be seeing the fulfillment of Apocalypse's dream," Nightcrawler commented.

"That might be our one saving grace," Jean began. "Part of the opposition within FOH to this plan is that they do fear for their own safety. Although their own scientists are saying it will 'only' hurt mutants, not everyone in FOH leadership is really secure with that. FOH does horrible things but they're not all completely stupid either, and they know this plan could turn on them."

"Viruses sometimes mutate," Hank said. "Would that not that be the ultimate irony, if it were to mutate and then harm non-mutant humans?"

Jean nodded. "There's other resistance inside FOH too. Not all of them want to wipe us out," she said, emphasizing the words. "Not all of them want us mutants to cease existing."

"'Course not," Wolverine said. "The bastards get their kicks from havin' someone beneath them. We give 'em a reason to live and something to do with their lives."

"Exactly," Jean said. "We give them a purpose. Not to mention," she added, "that they're basically using mutant women as their own sex slaves. They kill all mutants off, and they've lost people to kick around and they've lost their source for sex." Jean's voice carried the outrage she felt, after having been inside these men's minds for too long over the past few days. "Of course," she added, "if they do wipe us out, some FOH leaders are looking forward to going back to tormenting other groups instead--- like immigrants, gays, racial minorities, Jews, and Muslims. Given the political tone in the US and other countries, maybe they'll have a green light from the government on targeting those groups."

"FOH controls most of the world's governments anyway," Bobby added.

The room was silent for a bit, each lost in their own thoughts. "So what's the plan here?" Panda asked. She touched a hand to her midsection, fearing for her unborn child.

Jean took a breath. "What I believe I need to do---to dedicate myself to, no matter what it takes---is changing their minds and convincing them all that this is a terrible plan. They must not go through with this!"

Storm nodded. "Yes, I agree, Jean. And keep planting the thought and idea in their heads that this plan could easily turn on them and the virus could infect non-mutant humans at some point, even if they do not think it will do so now. I think that's our best chance at swaying them---the self-preservation argument --- since I agree with you that, if mutants were all destroyed, they would just go back to hunting down other groups."

"The bastards'll always find a scapegoat," Wolverine muttered.

Jean stood up. "Are we all agreed?" They were. "Then I must re-commit every waking hour to this. And I already hear the ticking of the clock. If you'll excuse me, I must get back to work now."

Jean turned and swiftly left the room. The group all understood that there was simply no time to waste. "What if she fails?" Wolverine asked.

Cyclops looked around the table, his heart pounding at the fact that his two children were aboard this ship. Yet he knew what the response needed to be. "If she fails, then we need to find another way to stop them. If it means a beam-down and an all-out attack on FOH, then we gotta do it. We could be looking at the end of all life on earth if we let those maniacs release this virus."

"We have X-men nearby."

"How near?"

"It's hard to say….a few days, at maximum warp, perhaps."

"Figures. We're not too far from earth. I'm sure they're on another rescue mission."

Psylocke and Marrow sat on the bridge of their starship. The vessel, which they'd stolen from FOH, had been renamed Vengeance. The two avengers loved having the freedom of a spacious starship again after the confinement of their cramped shuttle for so long. They now had a crew of sorts, too. Two of the mutant women who FOH had brought with on board had elected to remain with Psylocke and Marrow. The other nine women FOH had abducted had taken the option of boarding a cloaked shuttle which Marrow programmed to fly directly to An'zhina.

"Can you find anything else about them?" Marrow asked. "They know we're here? I sure don't want Xavier forcing us aboard his ship again."

Psylocke concentrated and continued her mental scan of the crew on board Freedom. "Interesting….Xavier's not with them. The only telepath they have with them is Jean Grey….and she's not about to sense us. Her powers are about as stressed and overworked as they've ever been. She's under tremendous strain."

"That so? That are they planning?" Marrow asked.

"That's what I'm going to try to find out."

I was sitting on the bridge when a blip appeared on a rarely-used section of the main monitor. The signal denoted an occurrence that I couldn't ever recall aboard Freedom. Maybe we were all a bit on edge, but I immediately flipped a switch to put the ship on yellow alert, and I beeped Storm and Cyclops too. Within seconds, the two of them plus Wolverine bounded onto the bridge.

"What is it?" Wolverine asked.

I pointed at the screen. "We're receiving a signal from another starship. It's a request for us to accept a transmission."

"How could another vessel even know we're out here---we're cloaked!" Cyclops said. "Unless they can read our cloak."

"It's gotta be some sort of trick," Wolverine said.

The three of them debated back and forth what to do. Suddenly Storm stopped talking and got a look on her face----a far away look, as if she wasn't in the room with us anymore. "What is it, Storm?" Wolverine asked. He sounded, I couldn't help but to notice, concerned.

"It….it's Psylocke. She and Marrow are nearby," Storm said. "They're the ones who've been trying to contact us through subspace."

"What do they want?" Cyclops asked.

"I will try to find that out. Wait just a moment." Storm then shut her eyes and appeared to concentrate on, apparently, receiving the psychic message that Psylocke was sending directly to her.

"They want to help," Storm finally said. "Psylocke says she's tapped Jean Grey's mind and those of the FOH leaders on earth. She and Marrow recognize how grave the situation on earth is, and Psylocke wants to use her powers in concert with Jean's to help sway the FOH."

So that was that. Psylocke would work from the shuttle she shared with Marrow---wherever it was----and join Jean in their telepathic work. I suppose I don't need to say that I fervently hoped they would succeed.

It would be hard to imagine if FOH were to go through with their scheme. It still blew my mind. A virus engineered to wipe out all mutant life. Well, on the other hand, why was I acting surprised? They always said "extermination" was their goal. Those of us living on An'zhina, and Psylocke and Marrow, could end up being the only mutants left…in the world, in the galaxy, anywhere.

And as Hank and the others pointed out, what if the virus mutated and ended up killing up non-mutants too? That would be it for all human life on earth. The 300 or so of us on An'zhina would be all that's left of the human race. The whole mess just made me crazy and was too frightening to think about.

Commander Klinsky knew that he was going to miss this. That thought flashed through his mind as he dressed himself after some time spent with Emma Frost. He was going to miss making use of her sexual favors once all of the wretched mutants were wiped out. He'd miss the other mutant women too, though Emma was by far the best.

Still, it was a good plan, Klinsky had to admit. A genetically engineered virus guaranteed to kill within hours any mutant exposed to it, and guaranteed to not harm normal humans. The FOH scientists assured the leadership that once the virus was exposed to the air, water, and the entire planet's ecosystem, it would destroy any new mutants who were born. The planet would be rid of the scourge of mutantkind forever.

I will miss this though,' he thought again. His life had been given meaning and purpose around first seeking out and harassing mutants, and then later, when FOH took control, being able to rape, torture and dismember mutants. Klinsky himself had recently been promoted to Commander; he had ascended high in the FOH pecking order. Belonging to this organization gave his life such a sense of purpose.

Klinsky, however, was not the brightest man and he tended to not think too far into the future. So he did not spend much time pondering the question of what he might live for, once mutants were wiped out. When it came time to vote on the proposition, Klinsky was going to vote in its favor. The top FOH leadership were set to meet in three days' time and cast their ballots on this question.

Klinsky didn't know if Emma was aware of the scheme or not. Powerful telepath that she was, Klinsky mused, she was only allowed very limited amounts of time without her collar in which she could actually use her powers. So she couldn't find out about the plan through her powers, and how else would she? She slept with most of the high-ranking FOH leaders in this area, but they were instructed to never discuss their plans with her. However, Klinsky was not fully aware of Emma's resourcefulness outside of her powers.

Klinsky then walked back to his quarters. The night was a dark one, it was quite late and he had a full day ahead of him. After using his card to unlock the door to his room, he began to undress and prepare for bed. Tomorrow morning he was scheduled to give a performance review to one of his direct reports, and then oversee a training session for several new recruits. And he had to remember to ask Lieutenant Johnson about the status of the weapons upgrade for their new line of tanks. Klinsky also had to call another weapons supplier and resolve a few service issues, and then meet with FOH's "government relations" committee to wrap up FOH's agenda for the next session of Congress. It would definitely be a busy day for the commander.

Suddenly, inexplicably, the Commander's thoughts began to shift off track. Somehow his mind drifted both slowly and gently, but also with force. His thoughts were set back onto the track towards the vote that would be taking place in three days. Without him even being aware of it, a few suggestions were placed inside of his mind.

What was I thinking?' Klinsky asked himself as he showered and shaved the next morning. If all mutants were wiped out, his life would have no meaning. What would he dedicate himself too? Where would he even earn a living – after all, FOH paid him a good salary. But that wasn't even the main argument that subtly, but persistently, nagged at him. The virus could spread out of control. None of their scientists had even addressed the possible long-term effects the virus might have on normal humans. For all they knew, in 20 years' time, it could cause cancer….or worse. Klinksy did want to have kids someday.

"I'm voting against this plan!" Klinsky told one of his teammates over breakfast.

"So what do you plan to name the baby?" Hector Rendoza asked Hank and Panda one day as the three worked in sick bay. "Have you talked about that yet?"

"We've talked about it," Panda said. Just from her tone, Hector guessed he had touched on a sensitive subject.

"We have not yet reached a conclusion," Hank said.

Panda fought the urge to roll her eyes; she was not pleased with the stalemate she and her husband had reached on this matter. She herself favored a strong, powerful name such as Alexander or Jason or Nicholas or Eric. Or a slightly unusual name, such as Derrick (which admittedly sounded similar to Eric'; that combination of sounds just appealed to her.)

Hank, on the other hand, was hooked on the idea of naming the boy Robert. As in, naming him after Bobby Drake. Aside from the fact that Panda was not exactly crazy about the name Robert, there also was the fact that Bobby Drake was not her favorite person in the world either. Oh, she wouldn't go so far as to say that she disliked him….she didn't. She was okay with Bobby. But to name her son after him? At the same time, Panda felt bad for having such sour feelings. Hank only meant well, and what was wrong with naming the child after a long-term, dear friend?

Part of Panda's irritation was in the sense that she was going to lose the naming battle. Hank indulged her in so many other ways, often going along with sex when she knew that he wasn't really in the mood, Panda knew it was her turn to compromise a bit.

"Thanks again for teaching me all this," Hector said, wanting to change the topic.

"It is our pleasure," Hank said. "You are a swift learner and very competent in all areas."

"You're really doing great, Hector. Thanks for wanting to learn," Panda added.

Wraith had asked Hank, Panda, and Shaman to train him as a medical assistant. They could always use additional help in the infirmary, and Wraith had wanted the additional responsibility. Having another pair of skilled hands in sick bay would someday prove to be a blessing, especially if and when the X-men resumed rescue missions. Hector was eager to learn and eager to please, glad to have something else to occupy his time. Hector trained for combat too, but one could only spend so many hours in the Danger Room per day. However, Hector's progress as a fighter was easy to track---the size of his muscles could easily be seen through his skin. The muscles were increasing in size and strength.

The former FOH solider Mark had also asked to be trained as a medical assistant, and Hank, Panda, and Shaman were spending a few hours with him every day.

"How often did you say should the tricorders be tested?" Hector was asking.

"I have them on a biannual testing schedule," Hank said. "Anything more frequent than that would be superfluous."

"If you ever need help translating Mr. Genius's vocabulary," Panda began, patting Hank's stomach affectionately, "just let me know. I consider myself fairly bright but he still tosses out some words I can't comprehend."

"Your kid will be a great linguist," Hector said.

Panda smiled. Wraith was really opening up more. Of course,' she thought, 'I don't have much to compare him against.' She knew that when Hector had first come aboard Freedom, she had spent very little time with him. She had all the rescued mutants and their medical needs to attend to. And then once they'd returned to An'zhina, she had the added task of preparing for the wedding, along with dealing with Colossus's death and everything else. Panda hadn't really made the time to socialize with Hector. But now that she and Hank saw Hector every day, they were developing a friendship.

And Panda viewed Hector's appearance as fascinating. So did Hank. The couple knew that there were many who looked upon Hector's appearance as ghastly, but neither Hank nor Panda did.

During one of Hector's first days in the lab, Panda had simply blurted out, "Hector, can we….look at you?" She and Hank had discussed wanting to just drink in Wraith's appearance and study him. But it would be rude to stare….so Panda had simply taken the risk and asked. They wanted the chance to just look at Hector, observe the muscles and tissues and bones functioning beneath the luminous skin's surface. Although feeling some trepidation, Hector had agreed to Panda's request. "Fascinating…..beautiful…..brilliant…." Panda and Hank had murmured as they unabashedly looked.

Unbeknownst to Panda or Hank, that day Hector had returned to his quarters and cried with happiness.

"No more mutants! No more mutants!"

Those were the words that Jim Lorring had chanted over and over again at FOH rallies, years ago. Back then, the organization was comprised of a minority of Americans with little real power, and Jim had been a college student. Now FOH controlled most of the governments of the world, and Jim was a renowned scientist, one of FOH's highest ranking scientists. His findings had been crucial to the discovery of the virus.

Of course another FOH scientist, someone who outranked him within FOH, was taking and receiving most of the credit for the virus. It infuriated Jim but there was little he could do as the other man was above him on the totem pole. He contented himself with the knowledge that his work had directly led to this wonderful thing…this virus which was poised to destroy the pestilence that was mutantkind. Soon he would be able to sleep better at night, knowing his wife and children would be safe from destructive mutants forever.

FOH was set to vote the next day on whether or not to release the virus, and Jim couldn't wait to cast his ballot. He knew the vote would be close, too, as many of those he'd spoken with said they opposed the plan.

The little voice began speaking to him sometime between dinner and bedtime. Returning home from the lab, as Jim did not live on or near a Mutant Containment Center, he was greeted by his wife and children. Jim's wife noticed that he was oddly quiet during dinner. The little voice was especially relentless when he lay down to sleep.

This virus could kill every living thing on earth….The tests have not been as comprehensive as they could've….We cut short several rounds of safety testing when General Smith heard of the virus and got excited…..There is always a chance that the virus could change and spread….For all I know, my kids could be hurt by this someday.'

Jim boarded an FOH jet bound for the meeting in which the votes would be cast, his mind changed. And yet he now knew that wasn't enough. The virus had to be destroyed, as did all the computer files detailing the engineering of the virus.

The FOH scientist was not the only person hearing voices in his head during the evening. On board Freedom, Wolverine tucked in the sheet and blanket that covered his bed, preparing it for his bedtime. He then stripped off his uniform and his underwear, and got under the covers. He had been there for only a few seconds when a gentle voice "spoke" to him, calling his name.

"Who is it?" Wolverine asked, sitting bolt upright.

Don't speak your answers. Just think them. It's Psylocke.

Wolverine would never be fully comfortable with this telepathic stuff. The thought of someone speaking into his head gave him the willies. Somehow, even though she was speaking to him using her telepathy, Psylocke's "voice" sounded like itself….except it sounded like her old self, flirty and frolicsome rather than the belligerent avenger she had become.

"What is it, Psylocke?" he asked out loud. He then thought those words, and added the thought, Shouldn't you be workin' on FOH?

I am quite tired now, Logan. I spent about 12 hours today doing just that.

How's it goin'?he "asked", still unused to this method of communication.

I think we will win this one. Jean and I have located and reached out to most of the men who will be casting the votes.

That's good. So what didja want, Betsy? You ain't speakin' into my mind 'cause you wanna chat.

Actually, I want you, Logan. I want you. Please, please….come to my ship and make love to me. Or I'll come to yours, if you want. It has been **so** long since I've had a man, let alone one as renowned in the bedroom as you.As she communicated with him, she could sense his emotions as well. Psylocke sensed it had now been a long time since Logan had had a woman and that he craved one very badly. Pleaseshe continued. Please. I promise I'll make you feel so good.She flooded his mind with sensual thoughts and a few images of what she hoped they would do together.

Just upon hearing her tone, Wolverine stiffened. Yes, it had been too long. Way too long for someone who loved sex. And he was too proud to go back to Storm and beg her to take him back though that was what he dearly wanted, what he wanted more than anything. But he couldn't do it. Right now he wanted nothing more than to spend the evening making love to a beautiful woman who loved sex as much as he did. His deliberation lasted only a few seconds.

Besides, he knew that back on An'zhina, Angel still had to have some feelings for Psylocke. There would be a measure of satisfaction gained in taking his former girlfriend, especially since Angel now had Sara Grey in his arms.

I'll beam you aboard FreedomWolverine responded. He felt a small measure of distrust of Psylocke and decided this would be preferable, rather than him beaming off Freedom.

I can send the coordinates to your bridge. Tell me when you're there and you're ready.

His loins already aching, Wolverine pulled on his shorts and a robe, and headed for the bridge. His pulse sped up and he increased his walking pace. Wolverine had no idea who currently was on duty but as he strode down the halls, he had to hope that it would be someone who would give him no grief for this. Had to hope it was someone with a weak will, someone whom he could convince one way or another. Whatever it took, he was getting Psylocke on board this ship and having sex with her. The blood pounded through his veins. Every urge and every instinct demanded it, and if he encountered any trouble from whoever was on bridge duty, he would use whatever means to get his way, even if it meant unsheathing his claws and fighting.

And he really hoped it wouldn't be Storm.

The doors to the bridge slide aside. Dani Moonstar sat at the captain's chair.

"Hi, Wolverine," she said.

Wolverine smiled. He liked Dani. And he knew she would not give him any trouble. "Dani, I gotta do somethin' right now," he said, stepping directly up to the console in front of the captain's chair. "I'll explain it all to you tomorrow. Right now, I gotta say that this ain't gonna hurt anyone on the ship or put us at any risk. But I gotta do this. You trust me?"

Dani looked at Wolverine, and blinked. Whatever he was up to, he looked so determined that a speeding train wasn't going to stop him; she could easily sense that. And she did trust him (she liked him too---he did a fantastic job training her and never treated her as anything other than an equal.) Besides, he was her superior in the X-men hierarchy and though Moonstar didn't give much weight to rank and privilege, she did recognize this.

"I trust you," she said. "Go at it. But I want a full report in the morning."

The second the words were out of Dani's mouth, Wolverine tapped a few buttons and responded to Psylocke's telepathic directions. He then left the bridge and walked back to his room, fighting the urge to run. He did curse, wishing his room weren't so far from the bridge.

At last, Wolverine reached his quarters. The doors slide aside at the touch of a button. Betsy Braddock lay on his bed, stark naked. Wolverine growled. Ripping off his own clothes, he pounced onto the bed.

"Ahhhh, yes….yes, Logan," Betsy breathed as his hands roved her entire body. She spread her legs and he dived down to her core, to eat as if he were a starving man. Wolverine's senses were going crazy---the tastes and smells that he loved so much, the softness of her skin and the curves of her body, the way she moaned and cried out. And she had the same capacity for multiple orgasms as he did. He was in heaven.

The two spent hours making the bedsprings creak, coupling in many different positions. At one point, Wolverine closed his eyes. He wished it were Storm who was sucking him right now, not Psylocke. He wished it was Storm's mouth his tongue had been ravishing a moment ago, not Psylocke's. But closing his eyes did no good. His hyper-senses did not allow him to be fooled; he knew the identity of the woman before just from her scent, just from the feel of her skin.

Psylocke beckoned him to lay on his back this time and she mounted him. His hands fondled her breasts, Wolverine still wishing the full peaks overflowing his palms belonged to Storm. Wolverine again closed his eyes, though the groans coming from the woman's mouth as she thrust unmistakably belonged to Psylocke. Not Storm.

For their next bout, Wolverine flipped her onto her back and plunged into her. They continued on for hours. When both were too exhausted for any more, they panted together on the bed, trying to recover their strength. Wolverine's healing factor helped him.

"You gave me the only decent reason to ever consider returning to the X-men," Betsy said. "Once the vote is taken and FOH decides against the plan, I'll regret when Marrow and I fly off, away from you."

"If I'm ever near you again, darlin…..look me up."

"I will do so. Damn, you're good."

Wolverine bit his tongue. He wanted to ask Better than Angel?' but decided against it. He knew he had to be. Plus he didn't want to ever appear insecure.

The two rested for a while longer. Finally, Psylocke said, "I better get back to my ship."

Wolverine nodded, slid off the bed, and donned his underwear and a robe. "I'll beam you over, darlin.' Jus' like before—stay here and I'll do it from the bridge."

He walked down the hallways, back to the bridge. His journey to the bridge hours ago had been frenzied, desperate and aching. His body was now sated and he began to feel mellow. Although as he continued to walk, he knew that the contentment he was experiencing was only a physical one. Emotionally there was a harrowing hollowness, an emptiness that battled against his pride.

When the doors to the bridge slid aside, Wolverine could not help but to gasp. Moonstar's shift apparently had ended…he now realized it had indeed been hours ago.

Storm now sat at the captain's chair.

Storm whirled her chair around to see who had entered the bridge. "Hello, Logan," she said calmly. She then added, "Is anything wrong?"

Storm's heart skipped a beat. Was Wolverine coming to see her, in the middle of the night? Why else would he be here, clad only in his robe? Maybe he was going to sit down with her and tell her that he missed her, couldn't live without her. He was going to take her in his arms, Storm mused, and tell her that he really loved her, and that ending it had been a terrible mistake. Here he was at last. The Goddess had finally answered her prayers. Storm began to smile warmly.

Her smile faded. Judging from the expression on Logan's face, something was amiss. Seriously amiss. "Is anything wrong?" she asked gently.

"No….No, darlin', not at all. I, uh….uh, there's something I need to do."

Storm's previous excitement was fading into disappointment and anxiety. It was not every day that one saw Logan trip over words. His face displayed a hint of redness, his eyes worry. "What is it, Logan?"

"It's uh….uh, look, Storm---I can't explain it right now. There's, uh, something on the bridge I gotta do." He remained standing near the door, not approaching the captain's chair. Storm did note that his eyes darted towards the console in front of her chair.

"What is it that you need to do?" she asked, keeping her voice calm as always.

"I'll tell you later. I can't tell you right now."

"Tell me this—is everything ok? Are you in any danger, or is the ship?"

"No. No, not at all. There's just something I gotta do using the ship's controls."

"You have me very worried, Logan. Are you certain that everything is alright? You look disturbed."

"Storm, I swear to you that everything's alright," he said, with passion. His voice took on a softer tone as he asked, "You trust me, don't you?"

"I would trust you with my life," she said, with a hint of fervor. "Alright, Logan. Do what you need to do, but you will make good on your promise to explain it to me later." That last phrase was spoken firmly, with no question that it was a command and not a plea.

Wolverine nodded and approached the console. As he neared, Storm then knew. No one's senses were as keen as Logan's, but she could smell the sex on him. Her main question then was who?.

Wolverine pressed a few buttons and then turned towards the door. "Thank you, Storm," he said quietly, not making eye-contact.

Storm, her heart low, could think of no reply. She nodded in response, and he exited the bridge. Storm then turned to the console and in a few seconds flat, punched up the log. Wolverine had beamed someone from his quarters onto a nearby vessel. Hours earlier, when Moonstar was on duty, Logan had beamed someone from a cloaked vessel into his quarters.

Of course. Psylocke. None of the women on board the ship were available to him, and Psylocke was nearby. She had made moves on him before. Storm clenched a fist and held it against her breast. This was almost too much to bear.

Psyclocke was beamed back onto the bridge of the ship she and Marrow had renamed Vengeance. She was clad in exactly what she'd been wearing when she departed the ship---nothing.

Marrow was sitting on the bridge, slumped into the captain's chair and half-asleep. She woke up when she saw Psylocke and raised an eyebrow or two. "I take it you had fun," she said flatly.

"Lots of," Psylocke said, beaming. "Goodnight," she called as she walked towards the bridge's doorway and headed off to her own room. Marrow couldn't resist taking a peek at Psylocke's retreating backside. She felt a little tug of desire. Lately Marrow had noticed that she was again occasionally feeling the stirrings of sexual arousal----those feelings that had lain dormant since her abominable experience with FOH but they had been slowly resurfacing.

"Wolverine, you damn lucky bastard," she muttered to the empty room.

Chapter 22

Chapter 24 


	24. Chapter 24

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 24

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 24

Storm's bridge duty shift was finished up in the early hours of the morning. Usually when she drew this unlucky shift, she was fatigued and eager to catch up on sleep. Even a Weather Witch gets tired at times,' she told herself. However, today she felt only numb.

As Storm pressed the buttons on the replicator, she couldn't quite believe what her fingers were doing. Bobby had the right idea a few days ago,' she thought. A Wind Goddess is allowed a little lapse, too.' Storm carried her alcohol back to her room and drank. Soon the idea of an even bigger lapse took hold.

Hector Rendoza glanced at the digital clock in his room. It was early in the morning but time for him to rise from bed and prepare for a Danger Room session. Hector preferred to get in some private training during obscure hours so that fewer of his teammates could witness his fumbling in the Danger Room. (Not that everyone didn't give him leeway for being new---they were indeed very patient. But still.) At this hour, probably Nightcrawler would be the only X-man in the Danger Room, and the elfin monk was so gentle and kind, Hector did not dread embarrassing himself in front of Kurt. So Wraith rose from the bed, showered, and shaved.

As he was rinsing his face of the remaining shaving cream, he heard a knock on his door. This was surprising. He couldn't ever remember anyone knocking on his door. No----it had happened once before. Jubilee had asked him to keep an eye on Aurora for a bit. This was awfully early in the morning for Jubilee to be again requesting babysitting favors though. Jubilee was not much of a morning person.

Hector threw on his hooded bathrobe and pressed the button to open the door as he pulled the hood to cover most of his face. Standing before him was Storm.

"May I come in?" she asked.

Hector blinked. Storm stood before him like the goddess that some An'zhinians whispered she was. Her wild hair framed her face and cascaded down to her shoulders. Her voice was husky, and her exquisitely beautiful features looked determined. The eyes blazed like some unstoppable force of nature. She was clad in a white, silky bathrobe. "O-of course," Hector stuttered, backing up.

Storm strode into the room as if she owned it and sat on the bed, reclining against the bedboard.

Well, I have to be dreaming,' Wraith thought. That's all there is to it.'

"C-can I help you with something, Storm?" he managed.

"Yes, Hector, you can. Why don't you come here and sit beside me?" Storm's robe was slightly open; tantalizing glimpses of her body peeked out from the material.

After hesitating for a split-second, the young man did as told. Storm was his superior and Wraith had a reputation for following orders. He sat next to Storm, not looking at her but feeling the heat of her body next to his. She reached an arm around and encircled Hector's waist. "Perhaps you can keep me company for a while," Storm whispered.

Hector was simultaneously excited and scared, though his overwhelming sensation was one of disbelief. "Uh….Storm? Is everything okay? I mean------"

With that, Storm reached for his chin and turned his face towards herself. She brought her mouth down on his. From that point onwards, Storm used her body language to communicate to Wraith what she wanted. She reached for one of his hands and brought it to an ample breast, cupping it. Her nipple was erect.

Wraith didn't ever seriously consider putting a stop to what he knew was happening. When his mutation had manifested itself two years ago at age sixteen, he had assumed then that he would remain a virgin his entire life. Even mutant women turned their heads away from him. And yet here was Storm….wanting and insisting. He noted the alcohol on her breath but that did not deter him. She actually wanted him, and he was not about to put a halt to it. Whether Storm was drunk or not didn't matter----Hector might never experience this again in his life. And the fact that he was eighteen meant he did not exactly measure and weigh the consequences of each action with too much gravity either.

So the two coupled together that morning. Hector was clumsy and inexperienced, climaxing far too early but his youth allowed him to rise again to the occasion soon. When sated, Storm kissed him again and left the room.

Hector sat back against the bedboards, again musing that he must have dreamed the whole thing.

"All X-men, please report to Meeting Room 1. This is not an emergency, but I request your presence right away for an important meeting."

Jean Grey's voice over the intercom woke Wolverine from his fitful slumber. He trudged from the bed to the shower, knowing what would be discussed at the meeting. The FOH vote would have occurred by now. From what Betsy had told him last night, she and Jean had succeeded in their mission. Besides, if they had failed, Jean would not have used words such as "not an emergency" or "request." As Wolverine soaped up, he knew that he felt no joy over the results of the mission. The encounter with Storm ate away at his adamantium bones, the regret poured down onto him with the shower water.

Storm's a proud woman. She's gonna be so mad.'

Wolverine donned his uniform and then headed down the hall to Meeting Room 1, the largest conference room on board Freedom. When the team was assembled, Jean began to speak. "I have good news," she said. "Psylocke and I have succeeded. FOH cast their votes and overwhelmingly voted against using the virus. But that's not all. Betsy and I also managed to 'convince' them to destroy the virus---safely, of course. And destroy all the files and research that led to its creation."

Assorted cheers and pats on the back for Jean were exchanged around the table. Wolverine sat quietly. We're cheerin' the fact that the bastards who run the planet decided not to wipe us all out. Lucky us. We get the privilege of gettin' to remain their slaves inside the concentration camps.' The mood in the room was an odd mixture of some relief, some jubilation, and some general sadness still.

Wolverine noticed that Storm sat out of his direct line of sight, which was fortunate. He didn't want to meet her eyes just now. He dreaded the explaining that awaited him.

"So where do we go from here?" Rogue then asked, once Jean had been sufficiently congratulated by everyone.

Jean managed a smile, "Well, the first thing is that I really do need some rest." Wolverine noted that her voice was slow; each word seemed heavy and labored on her lips. But she still managed to put sentences together well. "My mind needs some dedicated time to drift and think about nothing. I plan on soaking in a hot bath with candles and trying to clear my mind," she said with a smile. "But as soon as I'm ready, we can go back to the mission we came here for. To really change their minds about mutants, get them to see us as human, release mutants from those camps, etc. It's a tall order and there's a lot to be done."

"Maybe we can ask Psylocke to help with that as well," Cyclops said.

"It couldn't hurt."

The doors to the conference room slide aside and Hector entered. The young X-man was late, and the others quickly caught him up to speed on what he'd missed. Hector took the only empty seat, one next to Wolverine, muttering apologies for his tardiness.

Hector carried an unmistakable whiff with him, one which Wolverine used to smell on himself all the time. With growing shock, Wolverine sniffed Hector a few times.

Storm! He slept with Storm!'

Disbelief clouded Wolverine's mind and he did not attempt to hide his shock and confusion. He never would have imagined Storm initiating something like this. Never. He pointedly sniffed the air again. Storm was not sitting anywhere near him but he was able to pick up her scent. Alcohol. Lots of alcohol. And, of course, Hector's scent.

As the meeting continued onwards, Wolverine's thoughts were flying at the speed of the mightiest winds Storm might conjure. Storm ain't a big drinker,' he thought. Oh, back at the mansion she'd occasionally drink wine with dinner or other alcohol if they went out and celebrated, but in general booze was not part of her diet. But he could now smell that she'd drank quite a bit of it last night. Of course. She's bothered 'bout what I did.' His thoughts continued to whirl. Why the heck would she care so much what I did last night? We ended whatever it was we had. She ended it….'

But he did remember Storm's offer---- should it not work out with Sara, Storm had said she was not too proud to ask that he return to her. He never had returned. She had swallowed her pride by making that offer, but his own pride had forbidden him from taking her up on it.

I was too damn proud. Didn't want another rejection---had enough of those in my life.'

And then his thoughts reached the unmistakable conclusion. Was Storm jealous?

How much does she care bout me?' The ideas continued to swirl around his head. Maybe more than I ever realized.'

So what the hell do I do next?'

As soon as the meeting was concluded, Nightcrawler headed straight for Jean Grey. "You look so tired, Jean," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Is there anything I can do to help you rest? I would be glad to look after the children at any time, if you need it, or bring meals to your room if that might help."

Jean abruptly shook Kurt's hand off her shoulder. Pathetic ugly creature---don't touch me!' Upon hearing her own thoughts cutting through her head, Jean gasped in shock.

Kurt stared back at her, feeling only concern and surprise at the gasp and how brusquely she'd removed his hand. "Jean?" he softly asked. "Are you alright?"

"I---I'm sorry, Kurt," she said, groping her for words. Her mind indeed was tired. She mustered control of it and reached to hug Kurt. "I truly am overtired and I thank you for your offer of help. I'm sure Scott would appreciate some help with babysitting. I think for now I just need to get some peace and quiet."

When Jean had retired to her room and was basking in that bubble bath she'd promised herself, she began to reflect. I've had some terrifying thoughts,' she realized as the hot water coddled her tired muscles. Like when she'd looked at Kurt and thought those terrible things. Or earlier, during the meeting, Storm had made a comment that struck her the wrong way and Jean had found herself wanting to say, Shut up bitch.' Truly appalling words, for a kind woman who was one of her best friends ever!

I've been in too many FOH officials' minds,' Jean realized. Too much time interacting with these people who hate everyone who's different or who doesn't conform, and who hate and fear women leaders.' The FOH members' attitudes had infected her like a virus. Jean had even snapped at Christopher over nothing the other day. She shook her head. And it wasn't going to get any easier; she had a lot of work to do with the FOH leaders once she'd rested and felt ready to resume.

Jean took a deep breath, enjoying the warm water and the glowing candlelight in the small bathroom. She prayed for strength and guidance.

Later on that day, Cyclops led Mark to the engineering room. "Thanks for offering to help us test the dilithium," Cyclops was saying. The X-men ran diagnostics on this vital material every ten weeks, and it was due for a test again now.

"No prob at all," Mark said, glad to have something to do. He was still immensely relieved from the meeting earlier in the day. He could hardly imagine it if his former FOH higher-ups had gone through with their genocidal plan. "Any way I can help."

"You know how to do this, right?"

"Yeah. Nightcrawler showed me a few days after we left An'zhina, and he showed me where on the system the written instructions are too. He said it should take three to five hours."

Cyclops left engineering and Mark began his work.

A couple hours after the meeting, Wolverine finished up a particularly intense session in the Danger Room. After such a session, dueling Apocalypse for hours, a normal man would have been left with aching muscles and pounded bones, but for Wolverine it was simply another day at the office. Drenched with sweat, he made his way to the locker room for a shower. The drab walls, gray lockers, and faintly lingering scents never failed to trigger something in his memory, but he could never call up more than a hazy image or two. As he usually did, he shook the long-buried memory-fragment out of his mind. Those fragments never led anywhere, never presented themselves as anything more than a tantalizing morsel he could never sink his teeth into.

As he pulled on his clothing, he knew it was time to talk with Storm. Their relationship (whether it ultimately took the form of friendship or something more) was going to suffer, and perhaps never recover, if they didn't speak. He had to do it. He feared this more than he feared any battle with Apocalypse, but it was worth it if things with Storm could be repaired.

Wolverine walked down the halls towards the personnel quarters. He figured she would be in her room, as the rec room was usually bursting with activity and he knew she was not feeling sociable today.

Suddenly, a great force grabbed Wolverine by the shoulders and slammed him against a wall.

"I wanna talk to you, Mister!" Rogue said, her eyes blazing with fury.

Wolverine silently cursed himself. How could he not have sensed her approach? You're slippin' old man,' he heard Sabertooth taunt him. Sabertooth, killed years ago by FOH, still managed to rear his stinking presence into Wolverine's mind at odd times. Usually angry times.

"What the hell you think you're doing??" Wolverine barked back.

"I wanna have a word with you and the sweet approach don't seem to be workin'!" As they were standing near Rogue and Gambit's room, Rogue stepped towards the door so it slid aside. "Mind comin' in, sugar?" she asked, her voice conveying none of sweetness it often did.

Angry as he was at her approach, Wolverine didn't object. In a way, he wanted to delay the confrontation with Storm. And partly he wanted to know what had brought on this maelstrom from Rogue. He knew Storm was friends with her, but he doubted that she would've divulged the events of last night to Rogue. He knew that she didn't like to confide in anyone, even her closest friends. But I smelt booze on her,' he recalled. She probably ain't usin' her best judgement. Maybe she did talk.'

"You got some explainin' to do, darlin', for grabbin' me like that," Wolverine said, once the two were out of the hall.

"Sugar, you've had some explain' to do for quite a long time now," Rogue replied, matter-of-factly.

So Storm did tell Rogue what had happened! Great. Another thought crept in----maybe Dani Moonstar had spilled the beans instead. Wolverine had been confident that he could trust her, but he'd been wrong about people before. He crossed his arms. "What did she tell you?"

Rogue's eyebrows scrunched together. "Nobody told me nothin'," she said, sounding a bit confused at Wolverine's question. "I been meaning to talk to you 'bout this for months and I keep puttin' it off for the sake of Storm's pride. But I gotta say something now! I never seen her lookin' so depressed as she did in the meetin' this mornin'! You ever gonna get a conscience or get a clue and realize what you got, right there under your nose??"

Wolverine believed Rogue when she said that no one told her anything. He often could sniff out a lie, just from a small hint of fear the liar usually exuded. And he knew Rogue well enough after all these years to sense that she had no idea about what had transpired last night; her confusion over his comment had been genuine. His relief slightly mollified his ire. "You got no business tellin' me what to do 'bout my personal life, lady!"

"Sure I do!" Rogue's voice then cracked, taking on a more compassionate tone. "I'm sick of seein' two of my friends miserable all the time. Logan, for God's sake, you know she loves you. And I think you love her but you're too much of a blasted fool to realize it! You ain't gonna live happily ever after with Sara Grey or her sister, and you know it damn well." Her voice then changed to reflect her fury again. "What the hell is keepin' you from her, then? You like bein' miserable??"

Wolverine had had enough of this. He'd given her a chance to speak her peace but now was tired of being yelled at. He turned and walked out of the room.

Rogue yelled something back at him, but he didn't listen. Nothing was about to derail him from his destination now.

Wolverine reached Storm's door. Even before he knocked, he could smell that she was inside the room. "Who is it?"

"It's Wolverine," he answered. And then he found himself behaving strangely. He gulped. His mouth was uncharacteristically dry.

"Come in."

The door slid aside and he stepped through. "Hi, Storm," he said.

"Hi Logan," she said evenly, no smile on her face. Storm was sitting on the lone chair in her room, reading a book from An'zhina. A small notebook and an uncapped pen sat beside her on the nightstand. Her flute parked inside its open case was displayed on the bed. Her hair was in a ponytail; not a style she wore frequently. Logan moved to stand a respectful distance from her, but she did not rise from the chair in greeting.

"I, uh, I wanted to apologize," he said. "I know that you know what I did last night and I wanted to say I'm sorry."

"You do not owe me an explanation, Logan. Your personal life is of no account to me."

The ice in her voice slapped him. Not that he was surprised at her anger, not at all. But he knew that what she had done with Hector hinted at her feelings for him and that her coolness was only an act. He hated acts. Wolverine knew he had to find a way for them to discuss their true feelings; he had to find a palatable way to talk about their relationship, if there ever was to be one beyond friendship or if their friendship could ever indeed be mended. "I know what you and Hector did," he said bluntly.

Storm raised an eyebrow. "I don't comment on your personal life, and you will receive no explanation regarding mine either." She then paused. "However, I do have some concern that I might have misused my position as one of this group's leaders compared to Hector's youth and newness to the team. Initiating what he and I did was wrong of me. I know that I owe him an apology and I will give him one."

"Let's cut the bullshit, Ororo. You were hurt by what I did---otherwise you wouldn't have gone after Hector."

Storm's eyes flashed but the rest of her body language remained calm as ever. "What do you want from me, Logan?" she asked evenly. "I admit that I was hurt, then. Do you want me to burst into tears and beg you to come back?"

"No!" Wolverine moved closer and dropped to one knee in front of Storm. "I did what I did with Psylocke 'cause I missed you and wanted to be with you."

This time, Storm let some of her anger out from under wraps. "All you had to do was knock on my door and ask! You've had so many weeks now since Sara said she wasn't interested. Why did you not just come and talk to me?" As she asked the question, she saw the anguish on his face. But she was determined to hold her ground. At this point, she wasn't certain if anything he said or did would make her want to resume whatever it was they had before.

"I'm an idiot. That's why."

Storm nodded. "That I can believe."

"Look, Storm, I---I said I'm sorry. I don't apologize much and I meant it. " Suddenly, Wolverine got a flash of an insight. He wanted to be with Storm! He wanted to be with her, wanted to be her man. They might never have the syrupy, soulmate type of love that other couples had, but he realized in that instant all he had been missing since they split. The constant craving he'd had since their break-up, and it had been much more than physical. It was her that he'd missed. Only his stubbornness and fear of getting hurt again held him back. Then an emotion took hold inside his mind, one which he didn't express lightly. He didn't even like to admit that he felt it but he suddenly knew it was true. His voice took on a momentous quality that Storm picked up on. "An' I also wanted to say that I want you back because….because I lo-----"

Wolverine's declaration of love was cut short by the red alert siren. Hank's voice boomed over the intercom. "Everyone to the bridge immediately!"

Storm and Wolverine looked at each other, eyes wide. The red alert alarm did not sound every day, and it was blaring loudly as all the lights flashed. Storm sprang to her feet. "Come on!"

I'd been sitting in the rec room, playing a game with little Aurora and Charlotte. Jeanne-Marie, Jubilee, and Moonstar had been with me as we read to, sang to, and cavorted about on our knees with the two girls. When the alarm went off, we scooped up the girls and ran to the bridge.

"What do you mean we lost all the dilithium?!" Cyclops was yelling when I reached the bridge. He held his son in his arms, and Christopher was soon crying at all the pandemonium or at seeing his father so upset. Virtually everyone except Mark had reported to the overcrowded bridge and seeing us all crammed in the room together probably didn't help the baby's mood either.

"Mark was alone in engineering!" Rogue said.

I then heard Mark over the intercom. He sounded scared shitless. "It was my fault. I was performing the diagnostic on the dilithium and I pressed a few wrong buttons and…."

"What's going on?" Jeanne-Marie asked, having entered the bridge at the same time as I, amidst all this chaos. "Do you mean to say we've lost all our dilithium??"

"There's been an explosion in engineering. Seems our former FOH soldier accidentally' caused it when he was cleanin' the engines!" Rogue exclaimed. "All our dilithium went up in the explosion."

Storm and Wolverine had arrived at about the same time we did. "An explosion of the dilithium?" Storm repeated. "I assume the explosion is now contained and not at risk of spreading?"

"That's correct," Cyclops said.

"I'm gonna git to engineering and kick some FOH ass----" Rogue began, turning towards the door. But Jean Grey put a had on Rogue's arm.

"Rogue, it was an accident," Jean said, firmly. "I can sense Mark's mind. Cleaning the engines is a delicate process and it was an honest mistake. Any of us could've done it."

Rogue said something in reply, and simultaneously Hank asked whether Mark was hurt, but also at the same time Cyclops said, "Enough talk about assigning blame. We need to figure out what to do now."

As Storm went to a console and started pressing some buttons, she spoke, "We must have our emergency supply of dilithium left. Otherwise we wouldn't even be able to stand here and talk. Our life support is still working."

"Yeah," Cyclops said. "I checked it. Our emergency supply of dilithium is all that's left. We have enough left for about six days if we were to turn the warp drive back on. If we keep drifting like this, we have enough in the emergency supplies left for quite some time, though we can't go anywhere without the warp drive."

We then began shutting down absolutely everything that wasn't necessary. We'd already been very good about conserving, though, so there wasn't much left to shut down. We did close off the gym and the Danger Room, and we dropped the ship temperature several degrees (which didn't bother me at all but caused everyone else to wrap their arms around themselves or locate jackets. I stepped a bit closer to Jean-Paul and put an arm around him, in an attempt to help warm him up. He gave me a smile of gratitude.)

Cyclops and Storm were then sitting at the computer stations, scanning the area for any dilithium supplies within a six day radius. Like Cyke said, we only had enough dilithium left for about six days at warp. So this was a pretty serious emergency. And Cyclops and Storm weren't having much luck finding any dilithium that we could reach.

"There's one source of dilithium our scanners won't detect," Jean Grey said. "Psylocke and Marrow's cloaked shuttle. Wherever it is, they're still within telepathic range----I can sense them. Maybe they have some dilithium to spare."

And although the group consensus was that we wanted to beg from them only as a last resort, our scans found no other source of dilithium within that radius. (Which didn't really surprise me. I remember when we X-men first got control of this ship we spent a long time searching for dilithium. The likelihood of there being a supply anywhere we could reach within six days was as slim as Scott's nickname.)

Of course, we were close to earth and some dilithium existed on our home planet too, but it was all so heavily guarded by FOH, the risk of attempting to seize some could not be justified despite our pride protesting the idea of making a request from Psylocke and Marrow. We had all agreed that this would be a low-risk mission----we had the children on board----and were not about to drop our shields and attempt to steal any from earth. We all remembered what happened during our last mission to earth.

So our options had narrowed down to one and that was that. We had to swallow our pride and ask Psylocke and Marrow to give us dilithium. Case closed. All eyes on the bridge turned to Jean.

Jean closed her eyes and kept them closed for what seemed like quite a long time. Her discussion with Psylocke took several minutes.

"They want a few of us to beam to their vessel and discuss it," Jean finally said. "They say that they want to 'negotiate.' I sensed that they would be open to giving us some dilithium. But they are certainly not going to give us an easy time of it."

"Well, let's get ready," Cyclops began directing. "Storm, you and I will beam over-----"

"Scott," Jean interrupted, "Psylocke was very specific in who she wanted to negotiate with. She specifically requested only two people: Storm…and Dani Moonstar."

We all turned our heads to Dani. It made sense for them to request Storm; she was one of the leaders. But why Moonstar? "Me?" Dani asked. "Why would they want me to come along?"

"Maybe dey want the two of you to entertain dem wit' a song," Gambit joked.

"I'll go get my flute," Storm quipped, giving it right back to Gambit.

Jean finished writing down the coordinates on a piece of paper. "This is where they want you to beam to."

"Let's get ready," Storm said. "Come, Dani, to transporter room three."

"What about Mark?" Cannonball asked. "What do we do with him in the meantime?

"I say at the very least we confine him to quarters," Rogue said. "He's a threat."

"I agree for now," Cyclops said. "I believe that what he did was unintentional, but unintentional or not, his incompetence is a threat to us. For the time being, let's ask him to remain in his quarters."

There was no debate over that; there simply was no time. We'd deal with Mark later.

Storm and Marrow walked down the corridor towards the nearest transporter room. They decided to transport from there; doing so would require less dilithium than beaming them from the bridge to the other vessel.

"I still don't understand why they might want me to beam over," Moonstar was saying as she and Storm walked at a swift pace.

"I do not know," Storm said. "I am certain that they have no harmful intent; otherwise Jean would have alerted us." She paused as the two women reached the transporter room. "But Marrow is a lesbian. Perhaps she's interested in getting to meet you because of that."

Moonstar's interest was piqued. "But how would she know that I'm one too….oh. Probably Psylocke knows everything."

"Being a telepath gives one access to quite a bit of information. And Psylocke does not always use her powers ethically. She used to, years ago, when she was an X-man. But no longer."

"Well, Storm, whatever they want with me, you know I don't have much experience negotiating."

Storm smiled a reassuring smile at the young Moonstar. She usually displayed such uncanny confidence for her age, it was almost reassuring to witness some nervousness. "Do not worry. I will be glad to take the lead in these discussions."

Moonstar returned the smile, looking a bit relieved.

The two women then stepped onto the transporter pad. Storm's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts too. Had they summoned her because they preferred to deal with a female leader….or did Betsy merely want to gloat at her triumph last night? But more importantly, what was it that Wolverine had been about to say when the red alert sounded? Storm's mind thought it had heard one thing but her rational mind could not believe it, and part of her told her inner voice to quit dreaming. She debated with herself what it was that she missed and had such a longing to be able to get back with him in private.

'But even if he'd been about to say what I once hoped and dreamed he'd say….do I want him back now?' she asked herself.

These thoughts will have to wait,' she thought. Duty first.'

The two X-men materialized on the bridge of the ship Vengeance. Seated before them in the captain's and first officer's chair were Psylocke and Marrow. Two other women stood on the bridge.

"Greetings, Storm and Moonstar. I'm Psylocke and this is Marrow," Betsy said, directing herself to Moonstar as Dani had never met either of the two. Betsy then tilted her head towards the two other women. "This is Roula and Thyme." Roula was quite beautiful and appeared to be of Middle Eastern decent. She had striking features and lush, thick black hair spilling down over her shoulders. Thyme was white and equally beautiful, with wide eyes, a prim little nose, tiny mouth, and small, dainty hands. Both, however, looked to be holding back the ferocity that Marrow and Psylocke could display. Storm assumed both women were mutants but neither had an obvious mutation. She wondered where they came from and how they ended up on Psylocke and Marrow's ship.

"Please take a seat," Marrow said, sounding uncharacteristically accommodating and professional. She gestured to some empty seats.

Storm surveyed the spacious bridge. It was quite a bit larger than the one on Freedom. "Lovely starship you have here," she said, as she settled into a chair next to Moonstar.

"We liberated it from FOH," Marrow said. "We've renamed it Vengeance. The shuttle was getting too cramped."

"We also liberated Roula and Thyme from FOH too," Betsy said. "They and nine other women were brought with the crew of this ship for their 'entertainment' during their mission. The other nine women decided to board a shuttle bound for An'zhina and that's where they're heading right now. Thyme and Roula decided to come with us."

It made sense then, that Roula and Thyme looked so "normal." Of course FOH would select two very normal looking women, rather those with obvious mutations like Morlocks, to "accompany" them on their trip.

"Thank you for helping with the mission," Storm said. "Because of you and Jean combining your efforts, FOH's last disastrous plan was thwarted. We make a good team."

Marrow was unimpressed by Storm's attempt at opening on a positive note with aspirations of teamwork. "So I understand you've had some problems in engineering," Marrow said, cutting to the chase.

Storm looked at Marrow's face. Marrow had a slight smile, resembling a contented cat. Her posture suggested confidence, both feet firmly on the floor. Storm remembered back to when Marrow had first joined the crew of Freedom and later began training as an X-man. Such a strong, bold warrior, but so angry too. Storm knew that she herself was one of the few Marrow had respected. Perhaps that was why Storm had been requested. "Yes," Storm said. "We've come seeking your help. We have only our emergency supply of dilithium left now. It is enough to last us approximately six days at warp speed." Storm paused. "Unfortunately, the only dilithium supply within six days is located on earth and heavily guarded by FOH."

"Except for ours," Psylocke finished.

Storm's facial features belied none of her irritation. Why was Psylocke re-stating the obvious, what everyone already knew? How that woman loved to gloat! "Yes," Storm said. "Except for yours. So we X-men contacted you asking for your help. We're asking you to lend us enough dilithium to get us back to the moon we discovered a few years ago, the moon that contains unlimited dilithium." Storm referenced the uninhabited moon that the X-men encountered soon after they had left the Paradise Planet, before they'd encountered the Endarians. They had taken their fill of dilithium, gaining enough of the substance to power the ship for years.

"We ran a quick analysis and it shouldn't take a lot of your dilithium to get us there," Dani said, eager to contribute something. "We're about four weeks away from that moon, if we could go at warp five."

"Well, I gotta say you X-men have nerve," Marrow said, looking none too pleased. "If we gave it to you, it would be the second time we're saving your asses. We already pulled you out of that FOH camp on earth---and you repaid us by kidnapping us! Forcing us aboard your ship to hear a lecture from Xavier. You already owe us big time and I'd say by now you owe us even more. So what are you going to give us in exchange?" Marrow asked, her eyes staring down Storm, completely unintimidated by the Wind Rider.

"Marrow, I am sorry, but we do not have much to give you in return," Storm said, keeping her aggravation out of her voice. "We can give you our assurance that once we replenish our dilithium supplies, we will resume our work of attempting to improve life on earth for mutants---and for everyone."

"Not good enough," Psylocke said flatly. She and Marrow had a massive supply of dilithium and both women quite enjoyed being in this position.

Upon seeing that neither Psylocke nor Marrow would be forthcoming, Storm was then forced to ask, dreading the answer, "What is it that you would like of us?"

"I got an idea," Marrow said. It was obvious, though, that she had not simply dreamt this idea up on the spur of the moment. "How about we sign an agreement? You X-men vow never to interfere with us again. Never to kidnap us again and stay the hell out of our way."

"The X-men are fairly honorable," Psylocke said. "They should stick to any accord they sign." She paused, "But then again, they beamed us aboard their ship against our will, making themselves nearly as bad as FOH."

"Psylocke, please," Storm said softly, "I do not think that comparison is justified. We merely wanted to talk with you. When we could not reach an agreement, we let you go. Unharmed."

"Whatever."

"Any agreement that we sign, we shall be faithful to," Storm insisted. "We X-men do not break our word."

"What do you think?" Marrow asked. "Is it a deal?"

"I cannot make the decision myself, but I shall discuss it with the others," Storm replied. "I think they are likely to assent to it."

"They don't got much choice," Marrow added smugly.

Psylocke and Marrow both now appeared appeased. Storm was actually relieved. For a moment, she'd had a flash of fear that Psylocke was going to request something ridiculous----such as requesting that Wolverine join them permanently.

"Just one more thing," Marrow began. For a second, Storm's heart sank until she realized that Marrow was solely addressing Dani. "I want to talk to you for a minute. Alone."

Moonstar nodded. "Fine with me." Her voice did not belie her unease. She doubted that Marrow would harm her, but who really knew what this woman was capable of? She'd supposedly tortured and killed dozens of FOH soldiers with glee. And the most frequent adjective other X-men had used with Dani to describe Marrow was "fierce." Marrow's appearance---the cropped hair, sharp bones jutting from various places on her body, cold eyes that stared---didn't exactly radiate tenderness.

It was then decided that Storm would return to Freedom to discuss the proposal while Dani remained on Vengeance to fulfill Marrow's request and meet with her.

As Storm prepared to signal Freedom to beam her back over, Psylocke spoke. "So tell me, Storm," she began. "Do you enjoy being an X-man? Do you enjoy the missions your group has been on for the last few years?"

Storm was perplexed at what Psylocke might be diving for. "Yes, of course I do. Being an X-man is my life." She paused. "What about you, Betsy? Are you happy with the change you have made?"

"Getting vengeance is my life," she replied, using the same tone Storm had used to discuss being an X-man.

Moments after Storm and Moonstar had beamed over to Vengeance, Cyclops arrived in engineering to seize Mark. Hank was already there with the former FOH soldier.

"I swear it was a mistake," a petrified Mark said as soon as he saw Cyclops.

"I believe you, Mark," Cyclops said, kindness in his voice. "I really do. But for the good of the ship, it is best if you're confined to your quarters at least for the time being. We need to gain control of the situation. And you could be more of a threat to the ship if you cause another accident like this one." He gestured towards the doorway. "Come on."

Cyclops led a compliant Mark to his room, Hank in tow. "Do not worry, Mark," Hank said. "You will be unharmed. I'm sure most of the crew understands that it was an honest mistake."

"I feel like such an idiot," Mark said. "I can't believe I made this mistake. I'm really, really sorry." Despite reassuring words from Hank, Mark feared for himself now. He truly had made a mistake, but such a disastrous one. What if there were those who didn't believe him? What if Rogue or Wolverine got their hands on him?

Cyclops had mixed feelings as the procession made its way to Mark's room. He disliked the idea of confining Mark to quarters as if he were some criminal. But the safety of the ship's inhabitants must come first,' he thought. My Jeannie and our kids are with us. We can't have Mark causing another accident. The current situation is bad enough.'

"We will bring meals to you at the regular times," Hank said, once they'd entered Mark's room. "Are you hungry now?"

"No." Mark's mouth and throat were dry as dust. Fortunately he spotted his water bottle sitting on the dresser and the tap water from his washroom sink was as good as any of the water here.

"And you'll still have your communicator," Cyclops said. "Call any one of us if you need anything. As soon as we get the situation under control, we'll discuss what to do about your….accident."

As the two X-men turned to leave, Mark oddly found himself thanking them. The whole incident could have been much worse. But he still felt like a complete fool.

"Come with me, Dani," Marrow said, gesturing for her to follow. Storm had beamed off of Vengeance seconds ago.

Moonstar followed Marrow's strides down a corridor. Although a larger ship, Vengeance felt similar to Freedom---metallic walls with the persistent hum of the engines in the background. Being cooped up inside a starship was not easy for her; Dani loved and sorely missed the outdoors. She anticipated the day when she could sit outside, feeling sun on her back or wind rustling through her hair as she played her flute.

Marrow stopped outside of a door and opened it. Dani looked over the shoulder of the shorter women. They were entering a small conference room.

"Have a seat, Dani," Marrow gestured. She was trying to suppress a grin. Psylocke---weary of the subtle advances Marrow had been making on her for the past few weeks---had told Marrow that the X-men had a new member who was a lesbian. Marrow rarely got excited over anything these days except killing FOH soldiers. But she was now feeling a glint of excitement, like a child being presented with birthday gifts. However, once the two women were sitting opposite each other, Marrow's glee evaporated as she realized she had no idea what to say. She'd never been blessed with ease of verbal communication, despite the posturing she and Psylocke had just completed with Storm moments ago. It might've come naturally for Psylocke but it had all been an act for Marrow, and now that she wanted to really talk with someone, the words she wanted were stuck in her throat like a glob of peanut butter.

A few awkward moments of silence passed. Moonstar, who liked to speak and felt generally comfortable doing so, decided to talk first, "Is Marrow your real name?" she asked. Dani felt anything was preferable to sitting around uncomfortably staring at each other.

Marrow shook her head. "It's Sarah." Marrow then stumbled over several different openings until she blurted out what she wanted to know. "Tell me about yourself. I want to know your background, where you're from."

Moonstar began to speak. She'd told most of the X-men her story when they'd asked, so the well-worn narrative flowed naturally. "I was born and raised on a Navajo reservation in Arizona. My ancestors are mostly Navajo but I have some white ancestors too. We were very poor, but we got by. When I was fourteen I joined this youth group that one woman on the reservation started. It really changed my life. We tutored kids to stay in school, we did things like building roads and cleaning up streams, and we held ceremonies that honored our traditions---what we knew of them, anyway. Later on, we did things like petitioning lenders to make loans to Native American small businesses. We also made presentations to adults about things like alcoholism and AIDS----they were both big problems on our reservation. My parents and one of my brothers died of alcohol-related problems. When my parents died, we went to live with my Grandmother.

"I was always interested in music so I sang and played all over the reservation," she continued. "I'm mostly self-taught though there was this cool guy who helped me learn the flute. When I was seventeen, I came out as a lesbian. Everyone was very accepting of it----even Grandma. My mutant powers started showing up around that time too. Most people were pretty accepting of that too, though I didn't know what to do with them or how to control them and that freaked a few people out. But still no one really treated us any differently. Anyway, when I was 21, FOH swept through the reservation and they found me and brought me to a camp. I was only there for a few weeks when the X-men rescued us.

"I liked the idea of joining the X-men since I couldn't really go back home, though someday I want to. Back on the reservation, I have one brother still alive, he's probably got kids of his own by now, and hopefully my Grandma is still alive too. And several cousins. So I hope I can go back someday. But in the meantime I want to stay working with the X-men, since they've been so great to me."

Moonstar then paused. "Well, that's my story, pretty much. Why do you ask?"

Dani had been told she could be very charming and she knew it was having an effect on the other woman. Marrow was flustered. She wished she could again display the bravado she and Betsy had during the negotiations moments ago. "I just wanted to get to know you," Marrow finally said. "I don't often get to meet another mutant who's also a dyke."

"Yeah, same here. I don't really know of any others. Well, Rogue told me about her foster Moms, you know--- Mystique and Destiny. Though Mystique was probably bi. They're both dead now anyway." Dani was aware that she might sound as if rambling, but she was uncertain what else to say. She also observed the chinks in Marrow's armor. The sharp-featured woman was not as invincible as she had looked when Dani was first beamed to the bridge.

Awkward silence descended again. Moonstar was letting Marrow decide next where the conversation might go. She was the one who'd called this meeting anyway.

"Maybe you should join us," Marrow said.

"You mean you and Psylocke and those other two women? Hey, do you have a name that you call your group, anyway?" Moonstar kept her voice sounding lighthearted.

"No," Marrow said. She hadn't thought of that before. "But, what do you think of my offer?"

"Well, what does your group do? From what I've heard, you track down FOH soldiers and you torture and kill them. And steal dilithium and whatever else you can from them."

>"Yeah, that's pretty much it. And we rape them too, before we kill them, so we really get revenge. We use whatever sticks and stuff we have around. Sometimes I have bones that are big enough to do the job too."

Moonstar nodded. She could not believe how casually Marrow said those words. The woman looking at her might as well have been made out of stone. Moonstar found herself feeling some revulsion. "No, I'm not about that at all," Dani said. "I believe in what the X-men do. I want peace and harmony between mutants and normal humans. And if we can't get that, then I at least want mutants to be left alone and not harmed. But I can't get into killing and torturing, no matter how evil the actions of those soldiers were. Are," she corrected herself to using present tense. "Besides, I think violence always comes back to the one who commits it."

"You want to stay with us a while? Just see if you like it?"

"No thanks," Dani said flatly. There was another awkward pause. Dani had been hoping, for years now, to meet another mutant who was a lesbian. She had no idea that the momentous first meeting would fizzle out as badly as this one was. "Do you ever think of returning to the X-men?" she then asked. "Storm and Wolverine both told me you were a great fighter."

"No way," Marrow said. "I think the X-men are a bunch of fucking hypocrites. They say we're evil and bad for getting revenge on FOH, but ask them what they did to the FOH soldiers who raped the women in the X-men. They killed em. And you can bet that they tortured em beforehand. So, the X-men say that's okay, but it's not alright for anyone else to do the exact same thing."

Moonstar now truly had no idea what to say, except that she wanted to get out of this room, away from this spiky, violent woman and back to her own people. She then groped for something diplomatic to say, something that might fall from her idol Storm's lips. "I see that we have very different philosophies," she said. "Maybe we won't ever agree on this. But anyway, I bet the X-men are eager for me to get back to Freedom soon. You mind if I beam back now?" she tried to keep it sounding casual and not like a plea. Dani suddenly feared that Marrow would attempt to restrain her, to force her to stay with them. What if that was Marrow's plan---to pin her down and warp their ship away, leaving Dani a prisoner? The other X-men will come for me,' Dani thought, her mind running wild. They'll try to find me. But it's hard to track a cloaked ship that has a powerful telepath on board, and….'

Marrow's eyes were darting around the room before they settled on Moonstar again. "What about just staying with me for a few hours? We, uh, could go to my room and—um, you know…."

Moonstar's fears suddenly evaporated; Marrow was so ridiculous. Moonstar bit her tongue to keep from giggling. Marrow was trying to come on to her! What made it even more clumsy was the fact that Marrow was the antithesis of suave; she apparently didn't have much experience with romance at all. But Marrow's grating personality aside, Moonstar simply felt no attraction to this woman at all. She had no desire to even touch this woman, let alone go to bed with her.

The woman she really wanted was back on Freedom.

"Um, no thanks, Marrow," Dani said. "I'd really like to return to Freedom now, if you don't mind."

Marrow then simply rose from her seat and led Dani back to the bridge. The expression on her face had reverted to its normal one of detachment and disdain. Dani thought she also detected a hint of embarrassment on Marrow's face too but she knew she might be projecting.

Marrow did say something before she beamed Dani back to Freedom. "I like the name The Pirates. Maybe that's what we'll call ourselves. Thanks for the idea."

Chapter 23

Chapter 25 


	25. Chapter 25

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 25

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 25

Immediately after being beamed back to Freedom, Storm headed for the main conference room. When she reached it, she found most of the other X-men discussing Mark.

"How could he have been so stupid??" Jubilee was asking. "I mean, sheesh you gotta really mess up to blow up all the dilithium!"

"Stupid and careless!" Jeanne-Marie added, disgusted.

"But you must keep in mind, Jeanne-Marie and Jubilee," Shaman said, "those engines are tricky and not easy to clean."

"I must take some of the responsibility," Nightcrawler said. "I trained him on this process. Obviously my training was not sufficient."

"I don't think you need to take any of the blame, Kurt," Rogue said. "Are we so sure it was a blasted accident anyway??"

"I'm certain that it was," Jean said. "I can read his mind. I'd know if there was any malice. He truly did not mean to blow up our dilithium."

Rogue shook her head. "Well, whatever happens now, he ain't comin' on any more missions with us. Let him go back to washin' dishes on An'zhina if the damn fool wants to help' anymore."

Storm then entered the room, and everyone turned to look at her. Instinctively, Storm knew she always first sought out Wolverine whenever she entered a room. And there he was, looking right at her, with something of a glint in his eyes. What was he thinking of, Storm wondered. But she chased those thoughts out of her mind, knowing she needed to focus on business.

"Did they agree to help us?" Cyclops asked, getting right to the point.

"Where's Moonstar?" Bobby asked.

"She's remaining on board Marrow and Psylocke's ship for a little while----they have an actual starship now; they're not in a shuttle anymore." Storm said. "Marrow requested to speak with Moonstar. And yes, they did agree to help us---in exchange for something, of course."

"What do they want?" Cyclops asked.

Listening to the discussion, Wolverine fervently hoped that Betsy hadn't made some insane request of wanting him to permanently join them. She ain't that stupid,' he thought. They do somethin' like that and for all they know, we'll come on over there and take the damn dilithium from them.'

"They want us to sign an agreement," Storm said. She then went on to relay the details of the requested contract. The group discussed it for a short while. No one was thrilled with the idea of never being able to prevent Psylocke and Marrow from hurting others, but their options right now were severely limited and they needed the dilithium.

"It would be giving them free reign to do what they want," Rogue brought up.

"We don't have much choice," Storm replied.

"If we sign this agreement, we gotta stick with it," Wolverine said. "We can't give our word an' go back on it."

"I agree," Cyclops said. "So are we cer----"

He stopped when the doors to the conference room slid aside and Dani Moonstar entered. "Are you alright?" Cyclops asked.

"I'm fine," Dani said simply, a blank expression on her face.

"What did they want with you?" Northstar asked.

Moonstar shrugged. "They wanted to talk to me. That's it." Her expression was not going to give anything away. She then asked the group to fill her in on what she'd missed.

There was very little debate or discussion. The X-men agreed that they needed the dilithium and Psylocke and Marrow's terms were not the best, but acceptable. Jean contacted Psylocke to make the arrangements.

One half-hour later, Psylocke and Marrow beamed over a contract for the X-men to sign. Sparsely worded, it stated the exact terms of the agreement. The X-men were not to "hinder, or restrain" Psylocke, Marrow "or anyone else in their crew" "in any way, shape, or form." The X-men were not to beam any of them onto their ship without express approval and consent from the crew of the Vengeance, they were not to fire weapons on the Vengeance, not to use mind control against the crew of the Vengeance, not to use their tractor beam on the Vengeance, etc, etc. Psylocke and Marrow required that each member of the X-men on board Freedom sign the contract, and they did so.

In exchange, the X-men received a fairly sizable amount of dilithium. The amount would be sufficient for them to reach the moon they had been at before, the one containing mass amounts of dilithium. They did not have much to spare, but the dilithium they received would at least get them to the moon. The X-men estimated that the journey to the moon would require about four weeks at maximum warp.

As soon as the X-men had received and loaded the dilithium supplies, they set course for the moon at maximum speed. Their mission on earth would have to wait until their supplies could be replenished.

"What do we do with Mark now?" Storm asked. The X-men leadership---Storm, Cyclops, Hank, Wolverine and Rogue----stood in a circle in engineering moments after the dilithium had been loaded and Freedom began its expedition towards the moon with dilithium.

"I must say that I disagree with confining him to quarters as if he were a criminal," Hank said. "The situation is now under control and the ship is no longer at any immediate danger. It is time we had a discussion with Mark."

"To discuss what?" Rogue asked. "The fact that he's either a blasted fool or he's somehow fakin' Jean out and is some sorta super-spy."

"There is no way he could be faking Jean out," Scott said. "She's the second strongest telepath in the world! The galaxy," he corrected himself. "If she says that he made an honest mistake, then that's what happened."

"Maybe we gave the guy too much responsibility," Wolverine said.

Storm nodded. "That could indeed be it. Being an X-man and performing our duties is easy for us, but perhaps Mark was overwhelmed. He wanted to help so much and subsequently ended up taking on too much."

Rogue shook her head. "I still don't see it. Cleanin' the engines don't exactly require a brain surgeon."

"But it does require someone with great attention to detail, who can exercise caution and go about the work with precision," Hank said. "Perhaps we overestimated his skill set."

"I got an idea," Wolverine said after the group fell silent for a few seconds. "Hank, you're right that we can't leave the guy in his room all the time---he ain't a criminal. Let's let him go but keep him outta certain areas. Like the bridge and engineering."

Hank nodded. "I can easily program the doors to restrict access based on fingerprint. Thereby we can restrict Mark from the bridge and engineering."

The group liked that idea best of all. Cyclops asked Hank to go about making the programming changes and offered to speak more with Mark himself to determine exactly what went wrong. With that, their informal meeting was over.

Hank then turned to head for the bridge to make the programming changes, Cyclops went after Mark, and Rogue quickly made herself scarce, leaving Storm and Wolverine alone in engineering. They looked at each other, their eyes locking.

Storm detested the jitters she now felt. But she had to now initiate talking with Wolverine, had to see if their conversation could be resumed from where it had abruptly been cut off. Ever since Storm had returned from the negotiations with Marrow and Psylocke, she'd been taking brief glimpses at Logan and saw that he had been doing the same with her. The direct look he gave her now indicated that he also wanted to continue their discussion.

"Our…our conversation was interrupted," Storm managed, adding a small laugh onto the end. She actually felt herself blushing a bit and she wondered whether Logan were silently rejoicing, knowing he was one of the only people (maybe the only person) who could reduce her to this state.

"Yeah," Wolverine said. "You were sittin' on a chair and I was down on one knee in front of you."

Storm looked around the room and located a chair. Mustering all her gumption and trying to resist a smile, she walked over to it and sat down upon it as a queen might seat herself upon her throne.

A slight smile crept across Logan's face. He liked her nerve; always had. Playing along, he walked over towards her and again dropped to one knee. This surely was not going to be easy. But he had accepted that the alternative---no Storm---would be far, far worse.

"So, you were saying?" Storm asked, sounding now more like herself but also relaxed and a tad playful.

"I was sayin', darlin', that I regret what I did and that Psylocke ain't no substitute for you," he said sincerely.

"And…?" Storm prompted. She managed to keep from sounding too eager; her voice remained relaxed.

"And-----"

The doors to engineering slid aside and Bobby Drake walked in. "Hey, you guys seen Hank in here?" he asked. And then, taking note of the pose Storm and Wolverine were in, asked, "Am I interrupting anything? Like, a marriage proposal?"

Wolverine was decidedly not in the mood for joking with Bobby. He turned and gave the Iceman a sour look. "Beast went to the bridge. And you might wanna get yourself outta here too," he said gruffly.

"Sure thing, guys. See ya later," Bobby said breezily, ignoring Wolverine's ire, as he exited. He also fought back a little smirk on his face.

"Now, where were we?" Storm asked, smiling and deciding to have a sense of humor about the whole scenario.

Wolverine burst from his kneeling position and pulled himself towards Storm for a passionate kiss. He crushed his lips against hers, not wanting to hold himself back any longer, after having been denied---having denied himself----her for so long. "Darlin', I wanna be with you," he said, coming back up, gasping. "It's you I want. I miss you. An' whatever the hell we had before, I want it again."

Storm's heart was thumping, beating against her chest. She had waited for and dreamt about this for so long. Wolverine's kiss was intoxicating, the sharp bristles of his facial hair against her soft skin felt shocking but also familiarly delightful.

And yet. She had to continue to respect and honor herself. She had to keep her standards high and not settle for anything less than what she deserved or what she wanted. She forced herself to say what she needed to get out. "I liked what we had before," she admitted. "But I am not certain that it would be sufficient for me any longer."

Storm observed Wolverine's face falling, his very cautious hope seeming to disburse. Her heart started to break at seeing the expression of the man she loved. But she knew she had to hold firm. She reached down for one of his hands and held it between hers. "I want to be with you, Logan. I want us to be together. Not quite like what we had before, but something perhaps a little more serious. A little more committed. Something beyond just sex." She paused and attempted to gauge the effect her words were having on him. She felt that she had swallowed enough pride now. Let him have a turn.

"I want that too," he said. Storm was shocked to hear a twinge of….eagerness in his voice. Longing. He really did want her! "I want you to take me back, Storm." And then he finally verbalized what he'd been about to say to her in her room, before they'd been interrupted. "I love you, Storm."

Wolverine said the words and knew that he meant them, meant it fully. And as he'd realized before, it might be a different type of love than some others. He never felt for Storm the way he had felt for Jean when he'd first joined the X-men so long ago and Jean had occupied his thoughts morning, noon and night---how he'd dreamed of her, fumbled with words in her presence, salivated when Jean was in the room, obsessed over the intangible prize. And Wolverine had realized that he no longer wanted that futile yearning in his life anymore, or the false oasis of hope he'd felt when he'd met Jean's sister.

No, what he felt for Storm was a different kind of love, more rock steady and stable and natural. It wasn't the type of love that made your heart pound….but perhaps that was alright. It was more comfortable and less thrilling than the craving he'd felt for Jean. Maybe that had been why he'd fallen so hard for Jean in the first place. Logan had experienced so much pain in his lifetime that only the more intense feelings got through his thick defenses. But the time for those torrential feelings was past. Logan needed something real in his life now.

Storm digested those words. Even though she'd had an inkling that was the phrase he'd been about to utter as they'd been interrupted last time, it was still surprising and exciting. She looked down for a second and then let her eyes meet his. "Well, you already know how I feel about you. Don't you?" she asked softly.

"But I wanna hear you say it, Ro."

"I love you, Logan."

"Darlin'…I also wanna say I'm sorry. I didn't see what I had right in front of me all along. I'm sorry I was so thick-headed."

He then reached to kiss her but she pulled away. "But Logan….if we are to try our hand at a relationship, you must understand. There can be no more dalliances like the one you had with Psylocke." Storm hated to bring it up but knew she had to, or she'd regret it. She felt the strength and power of the universe flowing through her, giving her the mettle she needed to state her needs.

"It won't happen again."

Storm nodded. Where they were at now was almost beyond her wildest dreams. For several seconds she didn't know what to do and could tell that Wolverine wasn't certain either. They simply fell into an embrace, Wolverine still crouching down before her.

The contented warmth of having his arms around Storm and pulling her towards him put Wolverine into orbit. And he greatly wanted to make love to her then, but at the same time he did not want his declaration of love to be taken as a plea for sex. He wanted Storm to understand that he meant what he said and wasn't just looking for a bed partner.

Storm meanwhile was a bit too overjoyed for sex. So the two of them remained in engineering, hugging and embracing, savoring the feelings they had finally let down their shields far enough to experience. They sat nestled together for a long while, until Wolverine's communicator sounded.

"Uh…Wolverine? It's Wraith. It's, um, time for your bridge duty shift."

Wolverine regretfully pulled away from Storm to take a peek at his timepiece. He was over 20 minutes late. "Sorry, Hector. I'll be up in a minute."

As he got up, Storm rose with him. "You don't haveta come with me, darlin.'"

"I would like to."

"With you there, I ain't gonna be able to pay much attention to the bridge."

Storm smiled. "I will only distract you for a little while. Actually, I…." she took a breath, "I need to apologize to Hector." She knew that his hyper-senses would have told him what she did with Hector that morning.

He gave a brief nod, understanding. Holding hands, the two headed for the bridge.

As soon as I could get Dani Moonstar alone for a bit, I asked her if she wanted to talk. The two of us went into her room to sit down with drinks (hers being hot chocolate and mine soda---we knew we'd be keeping a close watch on dilithium usage but these drinks had already been replicated. And besides, since we got the extra dilithium we needed, I couldn't imagine that we were expected to drink nothing but water till we got to the moon with the dilithium. Though with the way good old Cyclops sometimes watched the logs, who knew?)

"So you gotta tell me, Dani," I said, "what happened on Marrow and Psylocke's ship? And Storm said they have a real ship now, and not a shuttle."

"Yeah, they stole a ship from FOH and named it Vengeance. And Marrow said something about wanting to name her group The Pirates." Dani shook her head and then added sarcastically, "Maybe she can grow a bone over an eye and make it into a patch. Wouldn't that be cute?" We both giggled---we had the same sense of humor. She then took a sip of her drink. "God it's cold on this ship now! I know we're saving dilithium, but sheesh." She got up to put on another layer of clothing.

"Well that's great that Marrow and crew picked out a snazzy new name," I said, eager to steer the conversation back towards where I wanted it. And the cold never really bothered me so I didn't have much else to say along those lines. "But why did they ask you to stay later, after Storm'd beamed away??"

Dani was smiling at me, the smile you give someone when you have a piece of information they obviously want. "Why do you ask? Were people talking about it?"

"Yeah. Some of us were," I said, trying to sound a bit nonchalant. "When we weren't talking about Mark or wondering what the heck we'd do if we didn't get the dilithium we needed."

"Well, nothing much happened, really. Marrow asked me to sit in a conference room with her. She asked me about my background, where I grew up and all. So I told her a lot of the stuff I told you when we first met. And yeah, she did hit on me but I was totally not interested." She paused. "So that was basically all that happened."

"You're disappointed," I said. "You're trying to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal but deep down, you're disappointed."

"How did you know?" she asked, sounding a tad impressed at my insight.

"Cause I would feel the same way. I have felt the same way." I took a breath. "Before I'd ever met another gay mutant, I was really looking forward to the day when I would. I had a lot of high hopes. But the first time I met Northstar, he---and his sister and Shaman---had just survived like weeks and weeks of being prisoners of FOH. They'd seen the rest of their team killed, and they were separated from their families back on earth. And they'd been tortured. So obviously Jean-Paul wasn't much in the mood for meeting new people. I was disappointed---I remember talking about it with Jubilee one day." I continued on with my flashback, hoping Dani wouldn't mind. She leaned forward in her seat, looking interested. "In fact, that was the day Jubilee first told me that she was pregnant. I was so shocked. But anyway, I just remember feeling disappointed and telling her I was so bummed that Jean-Paul and I didn't have this cosmic connection when we first met. But a while later, our pa ths crossed again and we were both at different places in our lives than we were the first time----and we clicked then."

"That's very interesting. And it's cool that it worked out for you guys. But I don't see any amount of time changing the fact that I don't have any chemistry with Marrow. And she's cold-heartedly killed and tortured who-knows-how-many people. Honestly, I didn't even want to look at her. She's not who I want."

I listened to her words and something about the way she said that last sentence gave me an idea. "Who do you want?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is there someone on board this ship that you are interested in?"

"Why do you ask that?" she asked innocently, but I saw a glint in her eyes and the corner of her mouth twitched upwards, tellingly.

"Just a feeling I had." Moonstar was silent so I pursued. "Well….?"

Dani tilted her head up, as if listening for something. "What the heck are you doing?" I asked her.

"Hoping the red alert sound would save me," she replied with a straight face. We then looked at each other and giggled.

"If you can't tell these things to me, then who can you tell??" I leaned forward. "So there is someone here who you have a crush on. Who is it?"

"I'm not telling."

"Don't you trust me?" I teasingly asked.

"I would trust you with my life in the Danger Room or on the battlefield. But I'm not sure I trust you to keep this to yourself."

"Ouch!" I said, grasping my chest in mock-horror, as if I'd been shot by an arrow. "That smarts! Do I really have a reputation as a gossip?"

"I wouldn't say that. No one's said that to me, anyway. I just get the idea that you do like to talk and know what's going on, and you have a lot of friends you like to talk to. It wasn't meant as a stab at you, Bobby."

"Okay, though it still sounds like you're calling me a gossip." But that wasn't the end of the matter for me. I had to pursue the idea of Dani having a crush on someone; she'd captured my interest. "But if someone swears me to secrecy, I will keep my word. So please tell me, Dani. Who is it that you like?"

"Bobby. Dearest." She reached forward and touched a hand to my chin. "I really wanna keep this to myself. Okay?"

I was silent for a bit as I mentally ran down the names of the women on board the ship. Moonstar didn't seem particularly close to Jean or Panda or Rogue. I think she liked them just fine but my intuition told me it wasn't one of those three and that it had to be one of the other three. And Dani had spent more significant time with the other three. She'd taught Storm the flute and they occasionally worked on music (and I think rituals too) together. I'd also seen her with Jubilee quite a bit, hanging out in the rec room, playing with Rory by the pool and such. Though Dani also seemed a bit chummy with Jean-Paul's sister Aurora too; especially that night we all got drunk in my room. "Okay, I got it narrowed down to three----Storm, Jubilee or Jeanne-Marie. Which is it?"

Dani made a face which told me that I'd correctly narrowed the field down. "Oh, Bobby you are so impossible. No wonder Hank's your best friend---he's the only one with enough patience to put up with you!" She was coming across jokingly though I'm sure we both knew there was truth in her words too.

"But what about Jean-Paul?" I kidded right back. "He's not exactly known for a lot of patience and he puts up with me!"

"Well maybe that's cause you treat him a whole lot better than you treat anyone else!"

"Do I?" I asked, switching to a more serious tone. I realized that she'd hit a note of truth. "Yeah, I guess I do, in a way."

"Well, I'd say you basically treat him like a king. And boy does he seem to like it," she added.

I shrugged. "He treats me very well too. He's very loving." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Though he hasn't let me have a turn for a long time," I pouted.

"He hasn't what? Oh---is this a reference to something in bed?"

"Yeah." Moonstar and I had talked pretty explicitly about our sex lives before; she and Jubilee were the two to whom I'd basically say anything on this topic. "In the past, I used to top every now and then and he didn't mind----he liked it for a change of pace and he'd even offer it sometimes. But he hasn't offered to bottom for a long time and ever since….ever since what happened to him with the soldiers, I'd feel like a jerk asking for it, you know?"

"But there's no harm in asking, is there? Worst he can do is say no," she said, shrugging. "But maybe you should hold off for a while----maybe he just needs to go for a while without it."

"I think so. It really hasn't been that long since he was assaulted, come to think of it. I guess I'm being selfish. But anyway, I'm not really upset about it."

"I'd say just be patient," Dani advised. "And understanding. You know, some women who've been raped need to go for a long time before they ever want someone inside them again. It can take a while to fully recover."

"I know," I paused and looked at her. "So, what about you, Dani? Do you feel yourself recovered from your time at the FOH camp?"

As always whenever this topic was broached, Moonstar adeptly changed the subject and moved on.

Storm and Wolverine arrived on the main bridge, Wolverine again apologizing to Hector for his tardiness. Hector rose from the captain's chair, not able to meet Storm's eyes.

"Hector," she began softly, "may I have a word with you?"

"Of course." He followed her to the nearest conference room and they sat down together. Hector had a strong feeling he knew what was coming.

"I wish to apologize to you for my behavior last night. This morning," Storm corrected herself. This day had been so momentous, it was hard to believe that so little time had truly passed. "I really hope that I did not misuse my position of leadership. There is no excuse for what I did, and I promise it will not happen again. I am very, very sorry if I hurt you."

"It's okay, Storm. Really," Hector replied. "I—I'm not mad. Really, there's no need to apologize. I mean, I understand that sometimes people…. people do things like having too much to drink."

Storm breathed a sigh of relief. "I am very glad to hear that. Thank you for being understanding, Hector."

"It's no big deal. If you want to, we can forget about it. It's okay with me."

Storm thanked him again, and Wraith then left the room. During their talk, she could see the blood coursing through Hector's system; she thought she might've seen him trembling even. Poor man,' she thought. I used him---there's no other way to say it. I hope he can truly forgive me someday.'

Unfortunately, Storm did not know the real reason why Hector appeared in such a state of excitement. He truly was not angry. In fact, he was elated. He was more excited and happy than he'd been in a long time. Because of Storm, he was able to join the ranks of a group of people he had thought he could never enter---he had become someone who had been kissed. And someone who had experienced sex. He'd known that Storm was drunk when she'd entered his room, and he'd known that their fling was not going to lead to anything more. And he hadn't cared one bit either. Hector was still flying high from the elation of their tryst.

Soon after my conversation with Moonstar, in which I'd failed to extract the identity of the woman she had a crush on, I found myself hanging out with Hank in his room. He and I no longer got a lot of one-on-one time anymore but he'd actually been taking a break from this research (believe it or not) and we wound up in the rec room at the same time. "I got an idea," I'd said. "How bout I brush you? For old times' sake."

He liked the idea so we'd left the rec room for his quarters, and soon I found myself straddling my large friend as I coaxed his fur into a more orderly state. It had been far, far too long since we'd done this.

"Your coat's looking in pretty decent shape," I said.

"Panda and I brush and scratch each other upon occasion," he explained.

We then talked for a bit about the events of the day, since it had been a busy one. Hank maintained that Mark's action had to have been an accident. I agreed, even though it did seem odd and a bit too coincidental that the former FOH soldier managed to blow up all our dilithium. As far as mistakes went, his was pretty colossal. But I basically agreed it had to have been unintentional. After all, that's what Jean said and how could Mark be faking her out? And from what I knew of Mark, I really believed he was a good guy.

"Do you have any baby news?" I asked.

"I do not," Hank said. "The pregnancy is progressing steadily and according to schedule. It is truly amazing---and fortunate----that Panda does not experience any of the common discomforts associated with gestation."

"With what? Oh—with being pregnant you mean. Sheesh, Hank, who are you trying to impress with these big words?? I can't understand you half the time."

Hank just sighed, I'm sure he rolled his eyes, and I continued to brush out his back. After being silent for a bit, he said, "Panda and I have decided to name the baby Robert."

"That's a nice na----." I stopped myself when it sank in. The movement of the brush came to a halt. "Robert'? You….you don't mean like after me, do you??"

"Yes."

"Hank!" I exclaimed. Words were failing me. "Wow. I mean, I'm honored. And I'm speechless. Thank you."  
  
"There is no need to thank me. I wanted to pay tribute to my best friend."

I was grinning from ear to ear at that point. Incredible. I felt such pride that someone thought me worthy of naming their own child after. Little 'ole me, getting a baby named after himself. And I truly was speechless. I searched for something humorous to say since I was glowing with the compliment and even a bit uncomfortable. "Um, I heard that those ultrasounds are sometimes wrong. So if the baby turns out to be a girl, please---whatever you do---don't name her Roberta, okay? That is the ugliest name in the universe."

Hank chuckled. "That is good advice. Perhaps Panda and I should come up with a contingency plan in case the test was incorrect."

We were quiet for a bit. "So how does it feel?" I asked. "Hank McCoy becoming a Daddy for the first time at age thirty-six."

"Thirty-seven, by now," he corrected. And then he was silent.

"Okay, thirty-seven. It's hard to keep track of this stuff without calendars and stuff. So….how does it feel?"

"I feel many different emotions in regards to this. Most are quite pleasant. However, I admit that I feel some pressure too."

"Really? How so?"

"I aspire to be a good parent. My own father was somewhat distant with my sister, brother and I. I hope to do better than he."

"You never talk about him, Hank. What was he like?" I was sincerely curious. And perhaps because I preferred to basically forget about my biological family, I rarely asked people about theirs. I'd known Hank for like sixteen years but I can only vaguely recall us once or twice touching on the subject of his family. I'd assumed it was a sore subject with him as well.

"He was a….a tolerable father," Hank finally said. "He never mistreated or abused us. However, we saw him infrequently because he spent most of his time at his profession. What little leisure time he had, he spent performing things such as household repairs and improvements, or attending sporting events with his friends."

"How was he with the whole mutant thing?" I asked.

"My father's reaction was comparable to that of my mother and the rest of the family. I believe that they wanted to be supportive but they were uncomfortable and unsure how to proceed." Hank paused. I had finished brushing out his back and the backs of his arms and legs. He thanked me for my work, and I then took a seat near the bed as he sat up on the bed. "There is no doubt in my mind that my family wished I were normal," he admitted. "As I progressed through my teenage years, my skin began to turn blue and my beast-like features developed. My mother took me to see many doctors. However, only once did my father engage in a conversation with me regarding my mutation. His discomfort was quite palpable." Hank paused. "I hope that I will not be distant as my father was."

"I can't imagine that you would be anything but a great dad," I said. "I mean, I think back to how great you were helping me, when I was so lost and confused way back when. You were really supportive and helpful. And caring. You just have those great qualities. And besides, if the kid's a mutant, you won't freak out like your parents did, obviously."

Hank quietly thanked me and we were both silent for a bit. My thoughts then zoomed back to the news that Hank's son would be named after me. Yes, the more I thought of it, the more my heart swelled. It was amazing that someone thought that highly of me. "So are you gonna call the kid Rob or Robbie or Bob…or what?" I smiled.

"I have given thought to that question as well, and Panda likes best the idea of calling him Rob or Robbie to avoid confusion."

"Good plan." I paused. "Um…thanks again. I'll do my best to be a good Uncle to….to little Rob."

"You are already a strong role model for Aurora, Charlotte, and Christopher. I know you will be the same for my son."

Hank's words left me on cloud nine. I mean, not that I didn't already know that he thought I was cool, but I was just thrilled that he and Panda were naming their son after me! At dinnertime, I was so excited, I stood up to make the announcement and tell the entire group. Someone is naming their child after me! Amazingly cool.

But in writing that section above, I jumped ahead of myself. Before I left Hank's quarters that time, he said one more thing to me. "Bobby," he began, "when you next converse with Northstar, can you remind him that we are approaching the date when he should again be tested for sexually transmitted diseases? You are both due for another test."

"Yeah, sure," I said. Then I grumbled, "Though I don't see why I have to be tested. I wasn't assaulted."

"It is a precaution. And while we are on the subject of precautionary measures, I would not be performing my duty as your doctor if I did not remind you to use condoms. It is necessary up through six months after the time Northstar was assaulted, and assuming his tests continue to result in a negative."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, we are using the condoms, don't worry. Though I hate them," I grumpily added. I didn't actually hate them but they were a nuisance. No, I hated them. They were a barrier, a separation and I wanted Jean-Paul as close as possible. But like a pouty child taking his medicine, I made sure we unrolled a condom every time.

Storm visited Wolverine during his bridge duty shift once that day. She debated with herself a few times, whether or not to go. She didn't want to seem like a little girl, too eager to open her birthday presents or as a dog glued to its master. But finally, when his shift was not too far from ending, she went with her gut and headed up towards the bridge to see him.

Wolverine brightened considerably when she entered the bridge. "I just thought I'd see if you wanted some company," Storm smiled.

"Darlin', I always want your company."

"I hope," Storm began, walking towards the captain's chair in which he sat, "that I am not distracting you."

He held out his arms. "Come here an' distract me."

Moments later, Storm found herself sitting on Logan's lap, the two of them kissing passionately. Her fingers were buried in her hair as her tongue took possession of his mouth and freely explored it. She enjoyed getting reacquainted with this; it had seemed as though an eternity had passed since they were together.

Wolverine pulled away, panting. "How much more time I got on this shift?" he asked, fumbling around for a timepiece. "Still got a half hour," he disappointedly said.

Slowly, both turned their heads towards the door. Storm gave a questioning look, an invitation.

"Darlin', you're supposeda be the controlled one," he said, knowing what both of them were considering. "You know I ain't gonna say no to you."

Her pulse pounding, Storm found the chaotic winds inside her at war with each other. She had initiated this, came up to see him during her shift. And she wanted him so badly. She hadn't intended for things to get this heated so quickly though. Should've known better,' she thought. It's been so long.'

But Storm was already deflated from her lapse with Hector. She'd made one bad judgement call today; distracting the person on bridge duty would be yet another. Ninety-nine percent of one's time on the bridge was uneventful, but the X-men's lives were generally shaped by that other one-percent. As one of the leaders, Storm could not afford another mistake.

But her eagerness was strong. "Perhaps," she panted, "something quick."

Logan thought about it. He desired her but he forced himself to exert some control. "You know, darlin'….you deserve somethin' better than that. Better than somethin' quick and sloppy here on the bridge."

Seeing his resolve to wait, Storm's own was strengthened. "You are right."

"Lemme make love to you for hours. Let's do it right. After this damn shift is over."

Storm nodded and slowly rose from his lap. The receding of her warmth pained him. "Come to my room as soon as your shift is finished," she breathed. "Then we can be together." With a quick kiss, Storm scrambled off.

This is gonna be a long half hour,' Wolverine grumbled.

Indeed it was. But when his shift was finished, he headed straight for Storm's room. Once there, his restraint was gone -- but Storm's was strong. They made love, Storm setting the pace to be slow and languorous. After hours the sheets were soaked with perspiration. After so much time, even Wolverine's legendary stamina started to fade and the lovers collapsed together, bound in each other's arms.

Freedom continued its journey towards the moon it had once visited to re-stock its dwindling dilithium supply. Although the detour took them away from their mission on earth and away from their base on An'zhina, the X-men had no choice.

Storm rose from bed after a most momentous day. Yesterday the man she loved had opened up to her and admitted his feelings for her. And she had reciprocated, admitting that she loved him as well---another milestone. Two proud, powerful people with fortresses around their emotions had finally let their guard down for a bit. As Storm brushed her teeth, showered, and dressed herself, she sang with happiness. Peculiar and exciting feelings coursed through her. She wondered what sort of permutations the relationship would take. She doubted that Wolverine would ever magically transform into the flowers-and-candy type (and she didn't necessarily want that either)---but what exactly would happen?

An hour after a light breakfast, Storm's destination was a training session in the Danger Room. The reduced dilithium supply meant that the room was open for limited hours only now, and she wanted to ensure she made use of it as much as possible. After a successful session, she headed back towards the mess hall for more water and a light snack to tide her over until lunchtime.

Storm smiled when she realized that she was not alone in the mess hall. Gambit, clad in a bathrobe (apparently with pajamas underneath) and slippers, hair tousled and eyes sleepy, was sipping a cup of coffee with his breakfast. "Stormy!" he smiled upon seeing her.

Storm was too happy to let the annoying nickname deflate her. "How are you this morning, Remy?" she asked as she sat next to him. The two were alone in the mess hall.

"Gambit will be jus' fine when dis coffee kicks in," he said, grogginess in his voice.

"Where's Rogue?"

"She went to her bridge shift. Gambit wanted to get up in time to see her off."

"You are so kind." Storm then snuck a glance at her timepiece and restrained a chuckle. The hour was not exactly early. Gambit was quieter than usual as he sipped his coffee. Storm noted his mood improving and that he appeared less sleepy with each sip. As the Cajun bit into his scrambled eggs, which were sprinkled with paprika, he gradually began to appear more interested in conversation.

"You seem very happy, Storm," Gambit stated. Somehow she was radiating sheer joy and he had not seen his friend in that condition for a long time.

"I am," she said, unable to suppress a small smile. After that, she fell silent.

"Care to let Gambit in on dat?" he gently asked.

Storm continued to smile. "I would like to keep it private. No offense, Remy. It's just something I want to keep to myself----for now."

Gambit wasn't thrilled with her answer, but he accepted it. After some time had passed, he then brought up another item on his mind. "I t'ink somethin' fishy goin' on here," he stated.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Gambit been doin' some investigating. I check the bridge's logs and see dat some logs were deleted the night before las'. And den the whole explosion in engineering. Gambit smell a rat," he declared as he dipped some of his eggs into a pool of Tabasco sauce on his plate.

Storm debated herself on what to tell him. She knew he had to be referring to the logs that had recorded Wolverine's beaming of Psylocke onto and off of Freedom. And as for the explosion, Storm fully believed Mark that an accident had occurred. "Surely Jean would alert us if something were amiss."

Gambit eyed her, studying her features. "You t'ink so?"

"Well, of course. And if she says that Mark caused the explosion by accident and not by any intent to hurt us, then I believe her."

"But what about dose logs dat were deleted? Dey were not only erased but someone put a lot of effort into coverin' deir tracks. I really had to dig and I still couldn't find the erased logs. Dis be very strange. What would someone be tryin' to cover up?" As he spoke, Gambit continued to watch Storm closely. She was silent. "What you t'ink, Storm?" he pursued.

"I—I cannot say," she said, her voice hesitant and her eyes on her fruit salad. "But again, surely if someone on this ship had any ill intentions, Jean would know about it." She took a bite of pineapple and chewed, having a strong feeling that Gambit was looking through her as easily as one looked through Hector's transparent skin.

Gambit was silent for a few moments. "Okay, Storm….what you be hidin'?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, trying to sound innocent

"I know you better dan dat. You hidin' something. Now out with it."

Storm continued to deny any knowledge of the erased logs for a bit, until Gambit's pursuit wore down her resolve and she became uncomfortable with lying to her friend. She then reached to pat one of Gambit's hands. "Alright, Remy," she said softly. "You are right. A very minor incident occurred the evening before last. The ship was and is in no harm. Everything is alright—it was just a….a miscue on someone's part, but it's been taken care of."

Storm was silent for a bit, Gambit incredulous at her shoddy answer. Seeing his disbelief, she continued, "Please, Remy, trust me. It was nothing to be concerned about. All is well."

Gambit set his fork down and pointedly drew a breath. "Gambit got a question for you, Storm," his voice firm and solid as a plank of wood. He paused for emphasis. "You still my friend?"

Storm's eyes widened. "Of course, Gambit. You know that. I consider you one of my best friends in the entire universe."

"Den can you tell me why the hell you never tell me shit? I ask you what you be happy bout, you can't even tell me dat. An' now you not tellin' me what goin' on wit' dese ship logs." He spoke rapidly and angrily. "I open up wit' you all the time. So do Rogue. But you never tell us nothin'," his hurt came through in the last sentence.

Storm closed her eyes, turning her head away momentarily, unable to meet his fiery eyes. She knew he spoke the truth. "Gambit, I am sorry," she said after a bit. "I know that I do not share as much as some others. I----"

"You don't share at all."

She closed her eyes and digested that. "You are right, Gambit."

"Well? Dat ever gonna change or you jus' gonna keep on bein' mystery woman, woman of steel?"

She was quiet for a bit. "It is difficult for us to change our behavior patterns sometimes. When one has been operating the same way for a long amount of time, I think that the mind becomes comfortable with the status quo."

"Okay, Dr. Hank McCoy," he said flatly. "So you jus' gonna keep on bein' the same way an' never lettin' anyone in?"

"No," she resolutely said. "No. In fact, yesterday something quite significant happened. It was a milestone for me."

At that instant, Jubilee and Dani Moonstar entered the bridge. Although Storm felt she had nothing to hide, she really wanted only Gambit to be privy to her disclosure. "Let's finish this up later," she urged quietly.

Gambit resisted the temptation to sigh. "How 'bout right after I'm done here," he said, gesturing to his food. Storm had already finished her last bite. When she agreed, he said, "I'm holdin' you to it, Storm." And with that, Gambit proceeded to polish off the remaining eggs and sausage on his plate in record time. He then scooped up the remaining pieces of his greasy biscuit into a napkin and gestured for Storm to rise from the table with him. "Let's go."

Gambit and Storm quickly relocated to the nearest empty conference room. As they walked together, Storm admitted to herself that she felt discomfort. Opening up like this would not be easy, and she had had more than her share of difficult moments the past few days. But her friendship with Gambit meant so much to her, and she forced herself to step out of her usual boundaries, for his sake.

"Alright, Remy," she said pleasantly, as soon as the two were seated in the small conference room. "I will share my happiness with you. I trust you to not divulge this to everyone." She paused, noting Gambit eagerly leaned forward on his seat. "The reason that I am so happy is because Wolverine and I are back together again."

"Dat so?" Gambit asked, truly surprised. I shoulda guessed,' he thought to himself. Then he asked, "How you feel? Happy bout it?"

"Yes, very much so. We had a very good discussion and we talked through a lot of things. We finally talked about how we really feel for each other."

Gambit's eyes were wide. This was news indeed. "So the two wit' deir emotions most under wraps finally had a talk, eh?"

"Yes. So you see, that is what I am happy about today."

Gambit reached for her hand and touched it. "Den Gambit happy for you too, Storm." He was surprised at this turn of events, but truly joyful for Storm.

A second or two later, Storm noticed Gambit craning his head around to take a look outside their conference room. Although the walls of the room were opaque, the door was transparent; the hallway could be seen through it. "What is it?" she asked.

"Jus' saw Mark walk by, dat's all."

"I wonder how he is doing," Storm said. She sincerely was interested in the former FOH soldier's condition; however, she also looked forward to the chance to deflect the conversation. "I hope people are being civil towards him, at least."

Gambit knew and understood that she wanted a change of topic and, mollified that she'd opened up to this extent, was happy to oblige. "I t'ink people be okay wit' him. I t'ought ole' Cyke would jump down his t'roat for messin' up, but One-Eye's actually been very sympat'etic and nice to Mark."

"He is always quite nice to Mark," Storm noted evenly. "So I am not surprised that it is continuing. Starting when Mark first came aboard this ship, Scott sort of took him under his wing. And you frequently see Mark babysitting Scott and Jean's kids. I think Scott has always seen Mark as a basically good man who lost his way, and Scott seems to like making Mark feel welcome."

"Funny t'ing," Gambit observed, shaking his head. "Cyke be more acceptin' of Mark, a former FOH member den he is wit' Bobby for bein' gay."

Storm thought about it and slowly nodded. "That does seem to be the case."

"An' Rogue on de other hand is jus' as prejudice with Mark as the FOH are wit'….wit' everyone, mutants or gays or whatever be different." Gambit silently added, Not dat I can blame her for bein' angry. But sometimes seems she can't get past it.'

"Is that so?" Storm asked.

"Oh, she been fit to be tied after dis stuff wit' the dilit'um explodin.' I'm jus' glad she ain't beatin' him again."

"I am sure she will not."

"I dunno. Gambit hope not. She already hate him enough for everyt'ing he did when he was in Friends of Humanity."

Storm then remained silent. She was beginning to find the subject of Mark's past cloying. Back on An'zhina, she had gotten into a disagreement with a few of the (non-Xmen) An'zhinins. They had argued that Mark deserved complete absolution since "he had no choice" but to go along with the gang rapes. That argument always angered Storm. No one---to her knowledge---had put a gun to Mark's head and forced him to commit the rapes. He was still accountable for what he had done. And although Storm did not necessarily think that Gambit would argue with her that morning, she had no wish to discuss Mark's history then either.

Enough of focusing on the negative. Storm was elated over the turn of events with Wolverine, and perhaps just as thrilled that she'd managed to open up with her friend Remy too.

Freedom continued on towards the moon, moving quietly, efficiently, and invisibly through space. Their journey towards the source of dilithium was undisturbed. The X-men continued to pass the time as they usually did---when not training or working out (despite the curtailed hours the gym was now open), they tended to congregate in the rec room, playing games and talking. Watching and playing with the three children on board the ship was a favorite past time for virtually everyone.

"We should be there in ten days," Scott said softly to Jean one evening, in their crowded room. Several toys were scattered on the floor, a hand washed baby outfit hung to dry in the bathroom and part of their small room was taken up with a diaper pail. At one point in his life, Scott would not have been able to abide by the clutter. However, he had adjusted to some degree of disorganization out of necessity; with two babies, there were no options.

"We're making good time, then," Jean said, mirroring Scott's quiet tone. Both children had been put to bed for the night and the parents had to be careful to not wake them.

"Yes. I can't wait to get back to An'zhina. The kids need to get out and see the sun again."

"And play in the sand," Jean added. Charlotte particularly loved to do so. "But I really can't wait for them to be back with their grandparents either." The X-men had all made the decision that once they stocked up on dilithium, they would return to An'zhina for a lay-over of at least a week. It was agreed that the children needed that rest time. Besides, as far as space distances went, the dilithium-bearing moon was not too far from Endarian space, when travelling at maximum warp.

"It's hard to be away from your parents and sister," Scott said, with as much longing in his voice as Jean would've conveyed because he loved them too.

"Yes." She paused. "I think what makes it difficult is just that this is longer than we'd planned to be away. By now, we're a little overdue. I know that Charles had discussed with my family that we didn't know exactly how long the mission near earth would take, but if I've been keeping track of things correctly, by the time we get to the moon with dilithium, we will be noticeably late." Jean had spoken with Shaman earlier in the day and knew that he terribly missed his wife and daughter, who were back on An'zhina. Sadly, Jean had even mused that due to the nature of this mission, so far they hadn't even really needed Shaman's powers , but he was so dedicated it would not have occurred to him to remain on their new home.

"Long enough for them to start worrying. Like we did when the others were late returning from the last mission."

"Exactly." Jean then walked up to her husband, who was sitting on the bed. She placed her hands on his shoulders and rubbed, knowing that his muscles were tired.

"Thanks, love," he said quietly.

"Well, what can we do?" Jean asked rhetorically, continuing with her last thought. "We'll be back with the rest of the family sooner or later. And I'm sure the Professor is talking to them, letting them know that we sometimes run into delays like this."

"The Professor can be very reassuring," Scott added. "And you know your parents trust him. They always have." He loved what Jean's hands were doing. He couldn't explain why his shoulders and neck were feeling so strained. He had not injured himself anytime recently during Danger Room sessions.

There was silence in the room for a bit. The children continued to slumber soundly. Jean was rhythmically coaxing the cricks out of the back of Scott's neck. "How does it feel to be co-leader on a mission again?" she asked.

"Okay, I guess. It is a bit different than running things on An'zhina." After a pause, he queried, "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering. I thought I felt a bit of tension in the room when you and Storm were discussing the decision to stop over on An'zhina once we get the dilithium, before we return to earth to complete our mission."

Scott was quiet for a bit. "I guess there was some," he admitted. "Sometimes she gets a look on her face when she's about to disagree. I saw it and I just didn't want to get into a conflict with her, this time."

"I know. And I'm sure that Storm, like you, wants to work together well as a team and reach decisions that are best for everyone."

"Yeah, you're right. But you just knew Wolverine was going to start arguing with the idea of a lay-over on An'zhina. And ever since he and Storm have gotten back together…." his voice trailed off. "Well, I was surprised she didn't argue the point more."

"I think Storm understands the wisdom in taking a break. All of us on this ship are now so cramped together, especially with so many ship areas shut down. But it looked like Storm wanted to present the other side, I think."

Scott thought for a bit. Jean's fingers were working magic in relaxing him. But a disturbing thought crept in nonetheless. "Seems that people listen to her."

"Yes. They listen to you, too though."

"Yeah. But every now and then I get the idea that….." again, Scott's voice trailed off. He wasn't sure he truly wanted to go down the pathway he was heading to. At times he'd been tempted to ask Jean what people thought of him, and what they thought of Storm. But when he really thought of it, he knew that he didn't really want the answers, nor did he want to ask Jean into an awkward position.

"It might be hard for everyone to get used to the idea of having two leaders again," Jean said.

"And three field commanders too. Not that I don't think the field commander level wasn't a good idea," he quickly added, liking the fact that the conversation was heading away from some thoughts that disturbed him. "I think it's great to have more leaders to delegate things to. But we do have a lot of people on this ship in leadership positions, compared to those who aren't." He then quietly added, in regards to the massaging she was doing, "That's good. Thanks, love."

Jean ceased the work of her hands and shook her head at Scott's offer to reciprocate. "Well, it's not like anyone throws their weight around. Thank goodness," she added. "I think the X-men function best when we all work together, as a team. And when we encounter problems, it's best if we work together to find the best answer for everyone."

"You are as wise as you are beautiful, my love," Scott said.

Indeed she was. Jean knew how to find a way to give him some gentle feedback while preventing him from becoming defensive or upset. And she smiled at the compliment. "After all these years, you still make me blush like a teenager."

TO BE CONTINUED

****

Note from the author

We are getting close to the end of "Freedom"; this is the penultimate chapter. But don't worry----a sequel is already in the works!

In the meantime, I am brainstorming on ideas for a name for this series. We have "X-men: Friends of Humanity", then "Freedom", and then the third book in the trilogy but I need a name for the entire series. I have a few suggestions below---please take a look:

1. Looking for Dilithium

2. Love Scenes Unlimited

3. Bobby Whining

4. Deep and Weighty Issues Discussed Here!

5. One Author Practices Writing Sex Scenes

6. Star Trek: The X Generation

7. Scenic Vacation Spots

8. Hangin' in the Rec Room, Bridge and Sick Bay

9. No Sabretooth in this Fic

10. Well, it's Better than the Movie….

Got any others? Email 'em to me at stormkprusa.net or post on fanfiction.net

Seriously, thanks for reading and I hope you'll enjoy the final chapter of "Freedom", coming soon.

Chapter 24

Chapter 26 


	26. Chapter 26

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 26

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 26

Here is the final chapter of my fanfic "Freedom." Please read the notes at the end of this chapter.

Oh, before we get to the chapter, I gotta share this. Remember last chapter I gave a bunch of tongue-in-cheek ideas for a name for this series? One fan wrote me with two that I just loved, and I've added them onto the bottom of my list from last time:

1) Looking for Dilithium

2) Love Scenes Unlimited

3) Bobby Whining

4) Deep and Weighty Issues Discussed Here!

5) One Author Practices Writing Sex Scenes

6) Star Trek: The X Generation

7) Scenic Vacation Spots

8) Hangin' in the Rec Room, Bridge and Sick Bay

9) No Sabretooth in this Fic

10) Well, it's Better than the Movie….

11) Earth Sucks, How About Space?

12) Everyone Gets Laid

(Except Professor X or Jubilee. Or Cannonball. Or Jeanne-Marie, Moonstar, Marrow, or Mark.)

And now, back on a serious note to the final chapter of the story:

One year ago, had someone asked the former FOH soldier Mark Burroughs if he knew what his life would have looked like in twelve month's time, never would he have made a correct guess. One year ago, Mark had been miserable as an FOH member working at the camps and desperately wanted a way out. But he never would have predicted the shape his escape took or that he would find himself on board a starship with over a dozen mutants, sailing through space.

Up until his accident in engineering, he had felt his acceptance among the group slowly building. In addition to Hector, there were a handful of others he would consider….maybe not a "friend" but at least on amicable terms with. There were those he felt were okay with his presence, would sit with him during meals and talk to him, or invite him to join in during their games in the rec room. Of course the only ones who had been openly hostile to him before were Rogue and Jeanne-Marie. Others, like Wolverine, merely disliked him.

After the explosion, Mark lost so much of the trust he'd built up. Please mistrusted him. Some didn't want to sit next to him during meals. And he was barred from the bridge and engineering as if a criminal.

Hundreds of times, over and over again, Mark replayed the accident in his mind. He remained baffled by his stupidity, remembering the wrong buttons he'd pressed, the voice in the back of his mind—which he had ignored--- telling him to stop and ask Nightcrawler for help. If only he had listened!

At least it wasn't as bad as it could have been. There were still several, aside from Hector, who were very kind to him---Scott, Jean, Hank, Bobby, Nightcrawler. And he was still allowed to play with and babysit the three children. Charlotte, in particular, liked him---he could tell. And if he had to live with the guilt of his mistake on board Freedom at least he no longer had to live with the guilt he'd endured day in and day out as an FOH soldier.

And as Bobby had once said to him, "Hey, everything turned out okay in the end." Fortunately Freedom continued to warp towards a moon which the X-men said was uninhabited and filled with precious dilithium. In just a few days, they would reach the moon and head back for An'zhina. Once at the moon, Mark planned to talk to Cyclops and ask for guidance – could he better help the X-men on Freedom or should he remain on An'zhina? He would take whatever direction Cyclops gave him.

Before we'd left An'zhina this last time, we took along several board games. Much as we all liked to play cards, we knew we'd need some variety on our journey. (And I was sure getting sick of cards; I wasn't the only one.) So just as the Endarians had allowed us to select several books each, they also allowed us to pick out some board games to play to help pass the time. A few of the games were somewhat incomprehensible to us, being that they were created by and for aliens. (As much as the Endarians looked like us and somehow could speak our language, they were inhabitants of a different planet, different star system. Every now and then we'd get reminders that they were alien.)

But there was one particular board game that many of us really took a liking to, and in general our differences from the Endarians didn't prohibit us from playing it. The way the game worked was that, basically, you move around the board and ask each other questions about themselves --- their pasts, their preferences, their dreams, etc. The other players all have to guess how you'll answer. The game's a riot even though there are some people here who don't want to open up. (I'll leave out their names; we know who all the culprits are.)

But me, I don't have a problem with talking about myself; not anymore. Neither does Jubilee.

She drew the question, "In what position are you when you're having the most enjoyable moments of your life?" Lots of hoots and hollering followed when it was read aloud, for obvious reasons. Rogue even interjected, apparently her own answer, "On top!"

It was a multiple choice question, and her options were: a) laying down, b) sitting down, and c) standing up.

I don't even remember how she answered, though I really recall her trying to mask the chagrined look on her face. Normally she had no problem talking about herself but this question posed a little problem for her. Like, she wanted to be able to go along with all the racy jests that the question brought to mind (and that we were snickering over), but everyone knew she really couldn't since she didn't have the fun experiences "laying down" that basically everyone else in the room had had.

At that moment, I really felt bad for her. We didn't talk about it much anymore---I think she was tired of beating a dead horse---but she was hurting over the fact that she hadn't had a real relationship yet or met the love of her life like so many others had.

"Look, there are three single guys on board this ship. Well, that is not counting guys who are Catholic priests. Do any of them interest you?"

I posed the question to Jubilee a while after the game, when she and I went back to her room to talk, as we often did. It was late and little Aurora was asleep.

"And," I then added, before she could answer, "defining single' as having no significant other' not as in 'not married', which rules me and Northstar and the Wolverine out."

"I'm glad he and Storm are really together now," Jubilee said.

"Me too," I nodded, hoping Jubilee's declaration was sincere. I remembered the proposal she had made some time ago, when Storm had asked—with Jubes's blessing--- Wolverine to consider sleeping with Jubilee. Jubilee later told me that, in hindsight, she was glad he had refused

Jubilee was quiet for a bit, so I pursued, "Well….do any of the three single guys here interest you?"

She shrugged. "Apparently none of 'em are interested in me," she said.

"Why do you say that?"

"None of them have made a move or even indicated that they like know I'm female."

I thought about it. I think that since things were going so well with Jean-Paul, I loved to play matchmaker. "Well, Mark's been not very talkative with anyone since his big mess-up. He always looks like he's afraid someone's gonna smack him. And Hector obviously's gonna be real shy around girls since you gotta bet he's thinking anyone would be put off by his appearance. And I think Sam's just plain shy, period. I think that's basically just the way he is." I paused, "But the question is---are you interested in any of them?"

Jubilee smiled and shook her head, smirking. "What?" I asked.

"You're such a trip, Bobby Drake. Sheesh, you should have your own talk show. Or advice column in the paper. Or maybe we should just dub you the official matchmaker of the X-men."

"Yeah, whatever. Weeelll?" I persisted, wanting an answer to my question.

Jubilee shrugged again. "I dunno. I'm not all that interested in Mark. Or Hector. Sam seems kinda cool but he's never given me the time of day. And I'm not really interested in going and chasing after anyone. Not after what happened with Lisman. Or Yunfei before him. I haven't had much luck doin' the pursuing." She took a deep breath. "Besides, I'm okay with being single, believe it or not. It would be nice to have a boyfriend but it's not the end of the world if I don't have one, you know?"

Jubilee then changed the subject. Rory soon woke up, and Jubilee went over to comfort her and coo her back to sleep.

"I can't wait for the day she's potty trained," Jubilee muttered, once her daughter was asleep again. "I mean, I love her but these shitty diapers are getting tiresome, you know? And here's betting that Charlotte is potty trained before Aurora."

"Jubes," I said gently. "C'mon. What's the point of comparing the two? Rory's progressing just fine and you know it."

I soon left her quarters for my own, and we didn't get a chance to talk about her love life anymore. And I know she pretty much said she thought I had my nose in other people's business too much and that she was okay with the single thing, but I really just wanted her to be happy. And then I, of course, starting playing back bits of our discussion. She kinda said she was attracted to Sam Guthrie. I was sure that Cannonball was just real shy. I wondered what would happen if he took the lead and made a move?

"…and so, we'd like to ask you to officiate at our wedding."

The words were spoken to Professor Xavier, by a mutant woman who the X-men had rescued from the camp in England during their first ever mission back to earth. The mutant woman and her betrothed---also a rescuee from the same camp--- had approached Charles one afternoon. After profusely thanking him for everything that he and the other X-men had done--- freeing them from the FOH hell and using their other skills to assist their emotional recovery from the traumatic experiences---the couple asked the Professor to perform their wedding.

Charles smiled and said he would be honored to preside over the ceremony.

"We want to wait until Jean and Scott are back from the mission," the male half of the couple added. "They, too, did so much to help both of us."

When the engaged couple departed, Charles smiled wistfully. He hoped that Jean, Scott, and the other X-men would not be much longer. Although he gained a tremenduous amount of satisfaction from working with the mutants on An'zhina, the Professor couldn't help but to miss his X-men.

Lately he had found himself providing almost daily reassurances to John and Elaine Grey. "It's always hard to estimate how long a mission like this will take," Xavier had said last time. "The journey to and from earth takes five weeks at maximum speed. It has been longer than that now since the team departed, but that is probably because the X-men spent several days hovering in proximity to earth as Jean did her work."

"But didn't you say that Jean could do a lot of her work from a distance---that the starship doesn't need to be right there at earth?" John had persisted. "If that's the case and she did some work from a distance, then it still could take them only ten weeks total to return here."

"Yes," Charles said. "But remember, the work that Jean is doing—or has done---might take several days. Perhaps even several weeks. Telepathic work is quite detailed, complex and often time-consuming. Jean and the others are there with the express purpose of changing the minds of the leaders of the Friends of Humanity. This could turn out to be a monumentally difficult task, even for a skilled telepath as your daughter."

"I just hope they'll be alright," Elaine said, specifically referring to Jean, the grandchildren, and Scott.

Charles continued to reassure the couple. He spent so much time trying to hearten them that he did not frequently step back and examine his own thoughts on the absense of the X-men. He certainly believed every word he told the Greys. But he also knew that any number of tragic events could be causing a delay as well.

No use worrying. Worry is non-productive. My X-men are trained well, and can deal with whatever circumstances have come their way. I must let it go,' he told himself.

Letting go. That was the hardest thing. The X-men were his surrogate children, and Charles itched to be with them, as much as he enjoyed the sunny days on An'zhina. The weather on the Endarian moon had turned balmy and bright. Soon the moon's citizens would be unrolling beach towels and basking in the sun.

Still, it was no replacement for being with his X-men.

Charles then turned his thoughts to more pleasant subjects. Overall, the mutants on An'zhina were doing well. At least as well as could be expected for those who had lived through such immense trauma. The upcoming marriage he'd been asked to preside over was one example of mutants recovering and moving on with their lives.

Though nothing could replace the thrill of working with his X-men, helping their community on An'zhina grow and evolve was immensely fulfilling for him too. Xavier found himself becoming rejuvinated, feeling more alive and excited. And while his dream of peace on earth had now been placed on hold, this colony of mutants functioned as a decent substitute. For the time being, at least. His original dream might be on hold but it was not gone.

Charles had another bright spot in his life too, helping his sense of revitalization. His friendship with Moira MacTaggert was being rekindled. Not that the two had ever ceased their friendship—not at all---, but when Moira's husband had been found to be alive, it had caused a strain between them. But no longer. He and Moira had resumed their morning breakfast ritual together. (Banshee was not a morning person and, more to the point, he understood now that he had nothing to fear so he usually did not join them. But Banshee knew that Moira would never betray him; Charles would never do so either, and that was that.)

Breakfast was a one-on-one occasion for Charles and Moira. His other meals, Charles usually took with Moira, Banshee, and Banshee's daughter Siryn. They were often joined by John and Elaine Grey, their grandchildren, Sarah Grey, and Angel. Evenings were frequently spent with the older adults----the Greys, Moira, and Banshee---sipping tea on one of the porches and talking. Together they bonded, and waited for the X-men's return.

"Dat little Rory be a handful," Gambit breathed. He and Rogue returned to their quarters after babysitting Jubilee's daughter in the rec room. The child, now over two years old, burst with energy.

"Some day we'll have our own," Rogue said, collapsing onto the plush chair. Although Rogue did not experience fatigue the way a normal human did, she knew she was not invincible either. Somehow tending to a toddler was more exhausting than a Danger Room session. The chair that she relaxed in was brought from An'zhina as the utilitarian accommodations on board this ship which used to belong to FOH did not include wide, cushiony seats.

"Dat will be a good day, when we be parents," Gambit said as he removed his duster and tossed it to the side. He then seated himself on the chair, along with Rogue. They embraced each other.

"Maybe someday soon it's time for me to stop taking those pills and see what happens," Rogue said.

"Gambit t'ink dat a good idea."

Rogue then rested her head on his shoulder. In a reflective mood all of a sudden, she took some time to think back. She had had an amazing last few years. So many milestones had been passed. Some words that Hank McCoy had once spoken crept back into Rogue's mind. Hank had said, "Prior to the invention of the telescope, human beings were limited to gazing at the universe with the naked human eye. Saturn was the last visible planet, and its orbit created what early astronomers referred to as the ring-pass-not.' It is now an antiquated term, but upon occasion the phrase ring-pass-not' is used to refer to the limits of the known world at any given time." Hank had then paused and added, "I believe that we X-men often have gone beyond our own ring-pass-nots."

It was the first time Rogue had heard of the phrase. "Ring-pass-not." She liked it. And Rogue knew that Hank, when he'd brought the subject up, had to have been thinking of his own "ring-pass-not"s that he had surpassed recently. Rogue had gone beyond quite a few herself, especially in the last few years. She never dreamed that she would've been able to face her past and control her powers. And yet here she was.

And if I can do that, I can forget about Remy's past too,' she realized.

"What you t'inking bout, chere?" Remy asked.

Rogue smiled and told him she'd been recalling the struggles she had triumphed over. Gambit listened, appreciative of everything she had indeed overcome. He held her closer. And he wondered whether he might get through some of his own ring-pass-nots as well.

Wolverine tossed and turned in his sleep, finally shaking off the nightmare _du jour_ and waking up. As soon as he regained consciousness, as always, the contents of the nightmare evaporated and he could not grasp them even if he'd wanted to.

Wolverine got up from the bed, moving quietly so as to not wake Storm. He tried to shake the disturbing feelings from his head. After using the bathroom, he returned to the bed. His eyes having easily adjusted to the darkness, he glanced at Storm's white locks, flaring out across the pillow. He reached a hand to her shoulder and, for a moment, gently rested it there. His heart pulsed with feeling for her.

Settling back down next to her on the bed, he realized that perhaps his most challenging battle ever lay ahead of him.

When we arrived at the moon, two things happened that would change my life forever. The first one was that we discovered the moon no longer had any dilithium.

We shocked X-men stood around the bridge, checking and re-checking the coordinates to make sure we had the right moon, running diagnostics on our sensors, and debating what to do next. I looked around, feeling the tension and fear in the room begin to build. Or maybe it was my own growing panic that I felt. None of us had planned for or expected this. We had no contingency plan. The moon had had so much dilithium last time we were here.

"We are not the only people in the galaxy who use dilithium," Cyclops said. "Apparently someone else has discovered this moon too."

"I bet the FOH bastards took it all," Wolverine grumbled.

"Might be someone else, too, for all we know," Rogue said. "We know there are other planets and other beings who use warp drive."

"Maybe it was those Cetians, that group of people we fought to get you guys back," Cyke said, looking at Gambit, Wolverine and I. "This is far from their home planet but since they have warp drive, it's not a lengthy trip for them to get here."

"The Endarians might've even taken it," Jubilee said. "They use dilithium too. They have a lot of it on their home planet, but they're not too far from here so maybe they stock up here sometimes too."

"But why would they take all the dilithium?" Jean asked quietly. Our scans showed that there truly was nothing left of the formerly plentiful supply. It had been completed ravished.

"It could have been another planet, another species, who took the dilithium," Storm speculated. "One that we have not previously encountered. Who knows how many warp-capable civilizations are out there."

"At this point, the identity of the group which procured all the dilithium is not important," Hank began. "The fact is, no more dilithium remains on this moon. The question has now become: where do we go from here."

The fear in the room continued to grow, it seemed. Traces of dilithium actually were left on the planet, but our scans showed that the energy output of beaming the raw dilithium onto Freedom and processing it would be greater than the amount of energy we would receive from the trace dilithium.

Hank ran another assessment of how much dilithium remained aboard Freedom and it was not an encouraging story. If we continued as we had been, there remained roughly 50 hours left before we would need to shut down life support. Obviously we had to avoid closing down life support at all costs. We needed to be able to breathe. The warp drive and the cloaking device were the biggest culprits in terms of gobbling up dilithium. If we shut down the warp engines and moved only at impulse power, the amount of time we could continue to produce such luxury items as oxygen and food increased exponentially.

But moving at impulse power and removing our cloak would both be very risky, especially if we were to get attacked. That's why we decided we had to keep our cloaking device on. In space distance terms, we were not far from An'zhina and as far as we knew, FOH still had vessels patrolling the outer mists of An'zhina. We absolutely could not un-cloak and risk a confrontation; discharging any weaponry was another huge drain on the dilithium.

Jean did bring up the point that if we had to, we could un-cloak and if we were to encounter any FOH vessels, she could use her powers to persuade them to turn away from a fight. But that was such a risky strategy, especially if we were to be attacked by more than one ship. That would mean a lot of minds for Jean to commandeer. So we held to our decision to keep the cloaking device up.

Hank sat at the captain's chair, running additional scans. He found something then that placed us in an even more awkward situation.

"There is a planet," he began, his fingers speedily typing away as he looked at his monitor, "which contains dilithium. It also contains an ample supply of trilithium, which can be used much as we use dilithium. I would estimate that we could reach this planet within 47 hours."

"That's great!" I exclaimed. I then added, seeing a decidedly unenthusiastic look on Hank's face, "Right?"

"What is it, Hank?" Storm asked.

"The planet is inhabited," Hank answered. "Both the dilithium and trilithium are located in heavily populated areas."

We all exchanged concerned looks with each other. All of us were crowded on the bridge, which was awkward; the bridge was not even large enough for us to stand in a circle. So it was a bit chaotic when a few people began talking at once. (And the three kids were in the room, milling about as well.) Cyclops then spoke loudly, "I wish we could all take this discussion into a conference room so we can sit down and really talk this through."

"But you cannot as we must now conserve every last bit of energy," Hank finished for him. The main and largest conference room was in an area of the ship that had been "shut down" in order to save dilithium.

So we finished our discussion on the bridge, with everyone just standing around.

"What happen if we don't get no more dilit'ium?" Gambit asked. "We jus' drift back to An'zhina?"

"If we don't encounter any FOH ships on the way," Wolverine said.

"We might have enough dilithium left to drift back to An'zhina," Storm said. "But it would be an extremely risky—and long---journey. For us to make it all the way back to An'zhina, we would definitely need to take the cloak off."

"How long might it take for us to get back to An'zhina at impulse power?" I asked.

"I estimate 15-17 weeks," Hank said.

Ugh', I thought.

"That's like four months," Jubilee said.

"Our life support and ability to replicate food might last that long," Cyclops said. "But if we encounter any FOH ships, we will not even have the ability to fire phasers or photons at them." He looked at Jean. "Could you use your powers to turn them away?"

Jean spoke slowly. "It would be a big gamble. If we are attacked by multiple FOH starships….it will be very difficult for me to control so many minds at once. It's possible but it would be very risky."

"One shot by an FOH blast could hit a part of the ship that Jean was in," Storm said. "If she were to knocked unconscious, our ability to fight back using that method is gone."

"And if we can't use any phasers or photons, we're about outta options," Wolverine said.

"We cannot risk getting captured again!" Northstar added.

"Maybe we oughtta think bout takin' some of the dilithium from that planet you talked about, Hank," Rogue said.

Hank's eyes were on his screen. "It is quite a quandary," he said, turning his gaze towards Cyclops. "The planet is inhabited. We face another moral dilemma."

"We took dilithium from the Paradise planet," Jubilee began, "and it had people on it."

"We really gotta go through this again?" Wolverine asked. "We ain't gonna know if we did the right thing on the Paradise planet or not, but we made the decision and we're done with it."

"The main difference between then and now," Cyclops began, "was that the area on the Paradise planet that we took the dilithium from was not inhabited."

As Wolverine gave Cyke a dirty look, Hank went on, "The sensors indicate a dense population in all the areas that contain dilithium. If we were closer to the planet, I could provide more specifics. However, the sensors also indicate that this planet has similar magnetic field storms as the Paradise planet."

"Is there any chance that we might synchronize orbit with the planet, drop our shields, and beam up some of their dilithium?" Storm asked.

"We just need enough to get back to An'zhina," Jean added. "We wouldn't need to take all of it."

"It is unlikely that we will not be noticed," Hank said. "From this vantage point, the indications are that the inhabitants of the planet are fairly highly evolved. Additionally, by the time we reach the planet, we might not have enough dilithium left to even use the transporters."

"We need some other options, then," Cyclops said. "Let's think it through. What others are there?"

There was silence for a bit. I kept turning over ideas in my head, ultimately rejecting all of them as unworkable. I think everyone was doing the same. We started to talk it through.

Someone came up with the idea of sending a distress call to An'zhina and hoping Angel or someone might arrive in a shuttle with some dilithium reserves that Queen Marina might be generous enough to give us. But that was incredibly risky---given Marina's current attitude towards us, we might never get that dilithium. And you never knew who might be listening on subspace to our distress call. The message could easily be intercepted by FOH---especially if they were still patrolling Endaria. All they'd have to do would be trace it to us, and we'd be in serious trouble.

Another idea arose: have a couple of us take a shuttle to An'zhina. But the shuttle would still require warp power and a cloak and we didn't have enough for that journey. Plus there was again the fact that we had no guarantee that Queen Marina would just hand over excess dilithium to us.

Psylocke and Marrow weren't around to bail us out again either. Jean said she could not telepathically sense either one. She could sense no minds within her range, other than distant echoes from that inhabited planet.

No matter what options we came up with, we were stuck with two: drift on impulse towards An'zhina and pray we made it, or take dilithium from the inhabited planet. We discussed them both over and over again. I eventually tuned it all out. I knew what we needed to do, had heard all the arguments before, knew what we'd ultimately decide, and was getting really impatient. We finally got to the point where Storm asked everyone for their opinion.

The majority of us agreed with the idea of taking the dilithium.

I mean, really what choice did we have? Setting Freedom adrift was far too treacherous. We might never make it. Impulse power was pretty wimpy (for lack of a better term)---for all we knew, we could get pulled into a black hole or something. And we'd be totally helpless if FOH had again developed a way to detect our cloak or if we willingly decloaked and they attacked. We'd face capture and torture at their hands again and I'm sure this time they'd kill us all quickly. We had to save our own skins.

Although now that I think about it, I wonder how much of our decision was governed by our personalities. I mean, we were a bunch of take-charge, make-action type people. Of course we'd prefer to go somewhere and take rather than float defenselessly through space. I knew what our outcome would be before we began the pointless debating, and I wondered why we were even wasting our time discussing it.

Many people's arguments mentioned the fact that we had three children on board the ship, and we needed to take the dilithium for their sake. The argument was made that we had to do whatever necessary to protect them.

So that was that; we decided to use our remaining warp drive to head for the inhabited planet with dilithium. To squeeze the last bit out of our remaining dilithium, we closed down almost everything. The rec room and the gym were shut down. All personnel quarters were closed off---we evacuated whatever personal items and toiletries we needed from them, took our blankets and pillows as well as cots and sleeping bags from the supply room and brought everything into the mess hall. The large room would be our new group sleeping hall. I helped Jubilee pile little Aurora's toys into baskets and we mournfully brought them to the mess hall, Rory in tears at the commotion.

Jean-Paul and I went through our room, selecting which items to bring with us to the mess hall. I packed a few books from Endaria into my duffle bag, along with our clothing and assorted toiletries. Jean-Paul opened the drawer on the nightstand and gestured at the condoms and lube, but I shook my head. Given our new group sleeping quarters, we wouldn't be getting a chance to use that stuff anytime soon.

Aside from our new group sleeping room, only the bridge, engineering, and sick bay would remain open. (As well as, obviously, the hallway that connected them.)

My greenhouse also escaped being shut down. I remember walking past it with Jean-Paul, Storm, Panda, and Hank as we went about the ship, carrying our things to the mess hall. I looked longingly into the clear window of my greenhouse. "There are some good veggies in there," I said wistfully.

"Perhaps we should not shut down the greenhouse," Storm said. "We could someday use the food in there." I shuddered at the thought of us becoming so desperate. I must admit there were a few butterflies in my stomach at that time; our future was so up in the air. And if it ever really came to that, the veggies inside the greenhouse would not sustain a group of our size for too long.

"The greenhouse does not use a great deal of dilithium anyway," Hank said. "And it stems off the corridor leading to the mess hall. Therefore keeping it open would not pose a significant drain on our systems."

So the greenhouse stayed up.

The ship temperature was dropped another ten degrees; we all went about with coats, hats, gloves, scarves, etc. Because of the nature of my mutant powers, cold generally doesn't bother me that much---but it can get to me after a while. So even I found my nose and fingers feeling unpleasantly frosty. I know the others were pretty uncomfortable most of the time, too. I had blurry but beloved memories of the happy sun on An'zhina and warm sand on my toes. It might be a while before I saw that again, I knew.

I forgot to mention----we obviously had to have one bathroom open too. The bathroom nearest to the dining room was a ways down the hall. It had been an old locker room, and it contained about seven closed stalls, seven urinals, and group showers. We decided that during the daytime, this place would have to function as a unisex bathroom. In the mornings, we would have to shower in shifts---all the men at one time, all the women at another. (And yes, that's right----the locker room had group showers with no curtains. I was suddenly back in high school hell.)

"At least it's better than all having to piss into a bucket," I said, as I stood next to Gambit. Wolverine was also within earshot. I just had to bring back that lovely memory of the time the three of us had been prisoners of FOH, during our transport to the planet Ceti III to work as slave laborers. Remy laughed at my dark humor. Wolverine just gave me a sour look.

It was at that point that I decided to stop being so gloomy. I mean, shit --- this was a lot better than being captives of FOH, subjected to their abuse every day, being transported across the galaxy to work as a slave in a hellish mine. Things could always be a lot worse. Episodes that we had survived before made this look like a day at the beach.

So I got in kind of a joking mood. As we were all unloading supplies and personal items in the mess hall, I kidded that we should build a fire and sing a few songs. "Can we build a fire in here, Cyke? I asked. He shot me a strange look back but Charlotte smiled at least. And Jean picked up on my vibe.

"We can tolerate anything if we know it's going to be for a limited period of time," she said. "In two day's time, we'll be at this planet and we can stock up enough dilithium to get back to Endarian space."

But Wolverine always had to put a damper on things. "If we don't run into any trouble gettin' the dilithium," he muttered. What a sourpuss.

"I think if we turn the temperature down anymore, we gonna be able to see our breath," Rogue said during dinner that day. She was eating her meal wearing gloves, she and Gambit practically sitting on each other's laps. Gambit appreciated the warmth from Rogue's body. Rogue took another bite of the replicated fish, which had been seasoned with hot spices to try to warm the team's insides.

"Too bad we don't have any snow and we can't build snowmen with the kids," Jubilee mumbled. In order to eat her dinner, she had grudgingly removed the scarf that she had wrapped around her nose and mouth. She looked enviously at Bobby. "I wish I was the Iceman."

"I gotta admit that even I am cold," Bobby said. "This hot chocolate's helping though," he added.

Jubilee smiled a half-smile. Bobby had been in an oddly perky mood the past few hours. Sitting next to Jubilee, "Uncle Bobby" had volunteered to get little Aurora's food into her mouth and not all over the girl's hands, clothes and face. Bobby would occasionally pick up a spoon and direct the food towards Rory's mouth, making animated sound effects as he did so. Aurora was especially bundled up; her little head enveloped by a pink fluffy hat, but she giggled at "Uncle Bobby's" antics.

"Being cold like this reminds me of Christmas, back on earth," Jubilee said. When she was a child, the holidays had been a painful time for her, bereft of a home and genuine family. However, ever since joining the X-men, the holidays had taken on a special glow and become a truly festive time. "I miss celebrating it," she added.

"Remember the last time we celebrated Christmas?" Bobby asked. "It was not too long after we…we were all living on this ship."

"It couldn't have been too long ago," Jubilee said. "I remember, I was pregnant at the time. I loved our gift exchange," she added, remembering how each X-man had drawn the name of a fellow X-man and had been responsible for procuring a gift for them.

"Dat was a fun time," Gambit said, a special twinkle in his eye. He fondly remembered how Rogue had drawn his name. His only request of her was that he be permitted to give her a massage. He'd desperately wanted to give her the chance to experience touch in a pleasurable way, to associate some positive feelings with it after the trauma she'd lived through. His idea had worked. He remembered his fevered temperature at touching her bare skin, his delight at the fact that she was brave enough to try it and that she enjoyed it. During dinner that evening, Gambit was finding that the cold now bothered him less.

Gambit turned his head and caught Rogue's eye. She winked at him. Remy felt his heart fluttering at the look from her. But moments later, his joy slowly began to turn into dismay. All the X-men obviously had to sleep inside the mess hall that night, and the large room offered nothing in the way of privacy. The wheels of his mind began to turn, rapidly turning over options.

Bobby was giggling at another memory from the X-men's last Christmas celebration. "I loved what you asked the Professor for, Rogue."

"Oh yeah," she said, her thoughts switching gears. "It had been a while since I laughed that hard." The Professor had drawn Rogue's name. For his gift to her, Rogue had requested that Xavier sing a bawdy song at the top of his lungs in front of the group. To her eternal shock (and slight embarrassment), he had actually agreed. Most of the X-men had laughed until their sides ached that evening, witnessing the spectacle.

"We oughtta go back to celebrating Christmas," Jubilee said. "I mean, once we get our dilithium back and all. If not for our sakes, then for the kids. Rory and Charlotte are old enough to enjoy gifts now."

"That's a great idea, sugar!" Rogue said. "Bring it up at our next meeting."

"I will."

After dinner, various groups of the X-men could be seen huddling together inside the mess hall. Jubilee and her daughter had snuggled themselves up against Panda, who was generously sharing the warmth of her fur. Scott and Jean were cuddled together with their children, reading quietly to them. Meanwhile, Gambit, Rogue, Bobby, Jean-Paul, Jeanne-Marie, Moonstar and Cannonball were sitting in a circle on the floor, Gambit telling the group an outrageous tale.

Storm and Wolverine were sitting together in a far end of the cafeteria. They had a blanket wrapped around them, close enough to feel the warmth but not constricting so it did not trigger Storm's fear of enclosed spaces. Wolverine knew she was already a bit edgy, with so much of the ship closed down. But she was handling it admirably well.

Despite everything that was going on with the X-men, Wolverine was feeling a measure of relief too. Storm had just told him that her latest test result was negative. (Ever since her last assault by the FOH, Storm – as Northstar---was being tested regularly for sexually transmitted diseases.)

"You nervous?" Wolverine asked. He held one of her hands between his. Her hand was brown, long, slender, and mostly hairless inside his white, hairy hands with short, stubby fingers. Storm looked down at their hands, intrigued by the contrast. Beautiful,' she thought, looking at the difference.

"Perhaps just a little," she replied quietly. "We don't know what we'll encounter at this planet, and we might not be successful in gaining any dilithium from them. There are so many unknowns. If we do not manage to procure any dilithium, we might very well have to drift in the direction of An'zhina and hope that we make it. But we X-men have encountered so much and survived it. This will be no different. Whatever obstacles we encounter, we will triumph over. I am sure of it." She paused. "What do you think?"

Wolverine gave a brief reply, indicating agreement. Storm was intrigued again, this time by the workings of her lover's mind. She wondered if deep down he perhaps felt a twinge of fear. Maybe by asking Storm to talk through the situation and her emotions, it helped to assuage his own fears since Logan certainly did not like talking about his own feelings. Perhaps he vicariously worked through whatever anxiety he might possess that way. That is,' she speculated, 'if he truly does feel any fear. He might not. He has lived through so much.' Storm knew that the ins and outs of Logan's minds might remain a mystery to her always---but she also was alright with that, to a degree.

Later that night, many of the X-men were asleep. Sleeping bags, pillows, and blankets had been strewn across the floor of the mess hall, as all the tables now had been moved to one side of the room.

Jubilee tossed and turned, trying to get used to sleeping on the floor again. Her daughter was slumbering soundly, but Jubilee couldn't get used to being deprived of a matress. She remembered sleeping inside tents as the X-men had on the Paradise planet, years ago. Back then she had been seven months pregnant and her back ached, but she had managed to fall into a peaceful sleep. Yeah, well then we were on vacation and I was so totally relaxed. It was warm and pleasant on that planet, not the icebox that this ship is now.'

Jubilee heard noises to her left and wondered what was going on. Oh, of course.' Rogue and Gambit's sleeping bag was nearer to her than anyone else's. Jubilee had wondered what all the couples would do now, since privacy was non-existent. Guess they found the answer---wait till everyone's asleep,' she grudgingly thought. Jubilee rolled her eyes, reached for her second pillow and put it over her ears.

Meanwhile, Gambit and Rogue lay on their sides together, Gambit behind Rogue. His fingers had found her sweet spot automatically, and he rubbed her through her clothing. As he worked her, Gambit quietly nibbled the back of her neck and ear, loving the heat emanating off her body. Rogue gyrated her hips back at his insistent hand, fondly remembering the days before she had mastered her powers. They had made love much as they were now. She was putting a great deal of effort into muffling the sounds she would normally make so close to orgasm.

After her climax, they slowly shifted position, Gambit glad his hand would be getting a rest. Rogue then reached a hand down his sweat pants, grasped his thick member, and pumped. Gambit closed his eyes and just enjoyed the sensations. Somehow being in the same room with everyone made it all the more illicit and exciting for Remy, and secretly he wished that Rogue had failed in her attempt to stifle the sounds of her climax. He was already quite close. Remy had wisely brought a few paper towels with him, into which he eagerly released.

Some point later on that night, Jubilee woke up, needing to use the restroom. She felt a split second of disorientation, wondering why she was laying on a mattress over a hard floor, wrapped in a sleeping bag. Then it came back to her. It would also explain why her nose and ears were cold and her hands encased in mittens. I drank a bunch of hot chocolate -- decaffeinated---before I went to bed, trying to warm me up,' she remembered. It also made her need to use the washroom now.

Jubilee slowly got to her feet. The mess hall was very dark with the lights shut off, though a small nightlight had been left on for the benefit of the children. She checked her daughter, noting that for once Rory's diaper would not need to be changed. (A table had been wheeled into the bathroom that the team all now shared, to serve as a changing table. The Friends of Humanity, obviously, had not installed diaper changing stations inside their washrooms.) Jubilee groggily found her fluffy slippers and exited the dining room, making her way down the hall towards the group bathroom. She found herself wishing for her own little room on the ship, with her own bathroom annexed. The hallway was dark, though small nightlights---not unlike the ones in movie theaters back on earth---helped illuminate the walls.

Jubilee entered the bathroom, squinting at the bright lights. As she rubbed her eyes, shuffling towards one of the stalls, she noted that the door to one of the stalls was closed. Great,' she muttered to herself. As Jubilee went about her business, she got the distinct impression that the washroom was being used now for purposes other than the usual one. Jubilee put her fingers over her ears.

Storm and Wolverine had been unable to restrain themselves. They had headed for the bathroom, seeking a private place to hug and kiss, both suspecting that it might lead to more that night.

It had. Though it was not the most comfortable of positions, Wolverine held onto Storm as she was backed against one of the walls, her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands gripping his shoulders. He plunged into her standing up. The physical discomfort afforded by this position was outweighed by the enjoyment rushing to other parts of their anatomy. Storm and Wolverine's groans and grunts were un-suppressed, as they both had been thinking they were alone. Dimly, Logan was aware that they were alone no longer, but he could not have cared less.

Jubilee washed her hands and scrambled out of the bathroom as quickly as she could. Unbeknowst to her, the bathroom had been the site of lovemaking for another pair, earlier in the night. Bobby and Northstar had also failed in attempting to hold back. It had started back in the mess hall as they tried to fall asleep, when a very cold Northstar had tried to warm up his hands by placing them inside Bobby's clothes. That had succeeded in warming both men up, in more ways than one.

So off to the bathroom they had headed. If someone had entered the washroom then and peeked underneath the door to their stall, they would have seen Northstar kneeling in front of Bobby, taking him inside his mouth. Bobby had leaned back against the wall, letting Northstar's lips and tongue drive him into bliss. As much as he'd been liking it, Bobby also couldn't wait to reciprocate. His mouth got wet at the thought of what he'd soon be doing.

When Jubilee reached her sleeping bag, she shook her head, wondering why in the hell people couldn't wait a day or two. Jubilee wouldn't even know that later on that night, Panda would lead Hank to engineering for a tryst. The large sized couple would gasp with shock when Cyclops and Jean walked in on them. (Jean's own lust had distracted her from sensing that others were using their would-be site for their lovemaking.)

I woke up to a pain in my back from sleeping on the floor and to Jean-Paul gently shaking me. "Bon jour, amour," he said, whispering. "It is time to get up and shower."

I quietly groaned. "Now? It's so early."

"It is the same time as usual. Come on. Cyclops has decided that the men are going to take our group shower now since most of us are up. The ladies will go afterwards when more of them wake up." I could hear the hustle and bustle of people getting up, putting on bathrobes, and quietly talking. Fresh coffee scents wafted through the air and the lighting in the mess hall had been moderately turned up. Charlotte and Rory were already chasing each other and heading for the playpen.

I basically moaned and groaned some more and said something about not feeling well. I muttered that I could just take my shower when the "ladies" were finished with theirs.

"But by then anyone can walk in!" Jean-Paul noted.

"It's okay," I said. It wasn't like the showers were directly in front of the toilets anyway; they were further back inside the bathroom. Besides, no argument that Jean-Paul (or anyone) could make would convince me to partake in showering at the same time as a bunch of straight men, in open showers without curtains. The horrors from high school! The fear that everyone's watching you; the fear that everyone's freaked that you're there and you might be watching them; the fear that you might actually not be able to refrain from stealing a glance and then get caught looking. I mean I know the X-men are cool and they're my family and all, but I just didn't want that kind of stress. No thank you.

So Jean-Paul scampered off and I remained in my sleeping bag, tossing and turning, seeking a comfortable position. My back and knees were sore from what Jean-Paul and I did the night before in the bathroom. I usually perform the oral stuff on him while laying on my stomach, him on his back. Or him sitting on the edge of the bed, me kneeling into him from the floor. The whole standing-kneeling in front thing is kinda sexy in concept but I hate holding that position for more than five minutes. I'm getting old.

Jubilee asked me why I wasn't showering with the rest of the guys and I said something about not feeling well. After not too long, the guys finished their shower shift and the bathroom was then made women-only so that the girls could take their showers.

Jean-Paul headed right back for me. "You missed something good," he taunted, though still keeping his voice low.

"I did?" I sat up now. "What?"

"Well…let me just say that Gambit has a damn sexy ass," Jean-Paul had quite the twinkle in his eye.

"Jean-Paul! You didn't! You didn't look, did you?!" I asked, mortified at the thought that Remy would know he'd been watched.

"Sure I did. Do not worry, amour. I can be subtle."

I shook my head. "Gambit's aware of everything. I'm sure he knows you looked! You're just lucky he's not homophobic."

"Calm down, Robere. I did not stare at him. I just sneaked in a look. Or two. And, ah….what a site it was. It was worth it."

A twinge of jealousy chipped away at my fear of Jean-Paul's voyeurism being detected. "Oh really? Better than mine?"

"Hmmmmmm…." he said, pretending (I think) to mull over the question.

"Jean-Paul!"

"Amour, amour---of course it was not better than yours. You know that."

"Thank you. I'm glad to hear my ass is number one in your book."

"It always will be."

That issue having been settled, I then proceeded to sit around in my pajamas, waiting for the women to finish their showers. And I do hate to say it, but they took forever; easily twice as long as the guys. I'm not even sure what the delay was due to; few of the girls ever wore make-up, or when they did, they just had it on really light. They do have longer hair though but I can't imagine it would take that long to dry. When the last female finally returned from the bathroom, I suddenly was feeling well enough to take my shower and headed for the bathroom.

I really hoped we'd get more dilithium soon and could return to having our own rooms again.

It happened only a few hours after breakfast. Jean-Paul and I were in the greenhouse, with Jean Grey and little Charlotte. The girl was taking an interest in the plants and I was pointing them out to her, Charlotte eagerly touching everything. Her mom had to keep her from tasting a few of the plant leaves too.

Jean-Paul's communicator beeped.

"Northstar, it's Beast. Can you report sick bay now?"

There was something wrong with Hank's voice. I picked up on it right away. Jean-Paul replied, "Yeah, I'll be right there."

"Is Bobby with you?" Hank asked.

"Yes."

"Bobby, can you come with as well?"

So we left Jean and her daughter in the greenhouse and headed down the hallway towards the infirmary. Jean-Paul and I didn't speak at all during our walk to the lab. My stomach was tittering with fear.

Breathe,' I told myself. It's nothing. It's probably nothing. It can't be that. It's something else.'

But with each step I took, the dread built. I tried to think of other reasons Hank might call us to sick bay but could come up with none. I reminded myself to breathe but it didn't help. I looked up at Jean-Paul's face once during our endless walk and I just could not read his expression.

We passed Panda on the way to sick bay. She was leaving the infirmary (with so many areas of the ship closed off, there wasn't anywhere else she could've come from.) She said a brief hello to us, and then quickly turned her eyes towards the floor.

We got to sick bay, and Hank was inside the lab, as usual, sitting at his desk. Jean-Paul and I entered the lab, and the door slid closed behind us.

As soon as I saw Hank's face, I knew.

"Please, sit down," he said. Jean-Paul and I took seats facing Hank, my hands shaking as I reached for the chair's back.

"What is wrong?" Jean-Paul asked. The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach was expanding to my lungs, making it difficult to breathe. My mouth was dry as dust.

"I am afraid that I have some bad news," Hank began, looking at Jean-Paul.

"What is it?" Jean-Paul asked, his voice almost snapping like a whip. I knew he wanted to hear it and hear it as soon as possible. He hated when people beat around the bush, especially over painful stuff.

"I have the results of the HIV test you took a few days ago," Hank began grimly.

"No," I said quietly, in anguish, gripping my chest with one hand. There was no longer any doubt as to what Hank was going to tell us.

"The test result is positive," Hank said.

That's all I can remember of that part. My next memory has Jean-Paul and I standing inside the lab, Hank apparently having left at some point. Jean-Paul and I were alone. He was pacing the lab, looking angry as I shook with terror. I don't know how much time had passed from the time Hank gave us the diagnosis.

"This cannot be! I am a mutant!" Jean-Paul bellowed.

He went on and on like that, disbelieving and angry. I fought my tears and my alarm, attempting to appear calm and collected for Jean-Paul. I felt anything but calm and cool but wanted to try to project that anyway. "We are mutants but we're human too," I said. "Anything can happen to us. We're susceptible to any sort of disease."

"Not me," he breathed quietly and vehemently, still sounding furious.

I tried to answer that, but my tongue was stuck. We might be mutants, might be X-men but that didn't save us from being captured and tortured by FOH, didn't stop Jubilee from getting pregnant as a result of the attacks. We were as vulnerable as anyone else. However, saying all this to Jean-Paul wasn't going to help much then, I judged.

"We'll make it to An'zhina," I said, grasping at straws. "We'll get the dilithium at this planet and we'll make it back to An'zhina. I'm sure Queen Marina has a cure. She helped you before-----she got you the arm replacement. She'll help you with this too."

I don't know how many times I repeated that, like a mantra. But Jean-Paul wasn't buying any of it.

"Joanne died of AIDS!" he said at one point. Joanne was the baby girl he had adopted, years ago.

"She was a newborn. She couldn't fight it," I said, attempting to sound firm and resolute. I have no idea if my voice was quivering or not. "But you're strong. You don't have AIDS yet, you just have the virus. You can fight it off." I dimly recalled that Hank had given us a bunch of information on things Jean-Paul could do to keep his immune system strong, to fend off full-fledged AIDS. I had a bunch of papers in my hands.

"Hank will help us," I said. I knew I had said those words many times that day. "He has all his records from the research he did when that Chinese girl---Lu----was sick with AIDS. He's picking up his research again. He's brilliant. He can find a cure."

I remember at some point I was crying and Jean-Paul was holding me. At another point, he cried and I held him. I still don't know quite how much time passed.

"Oh my god," he said at one point. "I have to tell Jeanne-Marie!" He said this as if he just realized it -- and this thought sent him into a frenzy. "I cannot! Dear god, she has lost so much. She has seen so much pain. Bobby, I can't tell her this! It will push her over the edge. This will be it for her! She'll go crazy again!"

For a while, Jean-Paul made the case that he should attempt to hide this from his sister. But we both knew there was no way he could carry on such a farce, not with all of us living in such close quarters, not with how much he and I were emotionally coming undone. So I tried to calm him down and have him understand that Jeanne-Marie would need to know. And I tried to make the argument that she would be strong enough to handle the news, though I doubted it.

So at one point, I remember Jeanne-Marie entering the lab. Her maelstrom of emotions made Jean-Paul and I seem calm in comparison. She threw a fit, she had a tantrum, she screamed and yelled so loud that I'm sure the rest of the ship heard us.

"It is not fair!" she screamed. "You were raped by those soldiers! You got the disease from them! You didn't do anything to deserve it!"

"I know, ma soeur," Jean-Paul said. His voice was calm though throaty now from having been crying so much. Jeanne-Marie's hysteria seemed to compel him into calming down. "I know. I haven't been with anyone except Bobby---and Phillippe before him---for the past…god, I don't know, for the past six or seven years. Phillippe and I were tested when we were together and neither of us had it."

"So that means you had to have gotten it from the soldiers!" she exclaimed, and resumed wailing. "That is so unfair! I hate those FOH bastards! They took my son, they did this to you, they tortured and killed all of Alpha Flight! How they have ruined my life!" Jeanne-Marie then went on and on, at the top of her lungs. She even proclaimed her wish to join with Psylocke and Marrow.

As she continued her rant, my thoughts raced. I never questioned that the attack from the FOH soldiers was where Jean-Paul contracted HIV. We all knew the soldiers were repeatedly raping their prisoners – hundreds of them---, and the mutant women we rescued from the camps virtually all had some sort of sexually transmitted disease. Though Lu had been the only one with AIDS that we knew of, there had to be others. And the soldiers had to be carriers of a host of STDs, if they didn't have them themselves. I remember the X-women talking about the assaults that they endured…..the soldiers had been instructed to use condoms but they didn't all the time.

And it couldn't have been me who Jean-Paul contracted the virus from. I dimly recall Hank telling me that all my STD test results were clean again, and handing me some printed information on performing safe sex when one partner has HIV. They must've been in the stack of papers I held in my hands.

Was I worried that I, too, would test positive for HIV down the road? I was free of disease now according to Hank, but since HIV can take months to show up on a test, did I worry about later? Honestly, the thought hadn't crossed my mind. Ever since the assault, Jean-Paul and I had been diligent about using condoms. Well, we didn't use them for oral sex but that was supposed to be a relatively low-risk activity….I had swallowed his semen though, which we probably should not have done. But Jean-Paul was the only person I'd had sex with for years---minus that misguided fling on Ceti III. I truly didn't even think that I might have it myself; all my care and my worry was over Jean-Paul. Concern about myself was the farthest thing from my mind.

I think that now it's time for me to end this. I've written a lot about the X-men's---and my own---journeys over the last several years. I need to take a break from my story now and collect my thoughts.

I remember that last time I ended a long story, I reflected on all the positive things in my life at the time, how much I'd grown and matured, and how much the rest of the X-men had too. Jean-Paul and I had recently gotten together at the time I last wrote an ending. I was full of hope, full of joy and optimism about the future.

I have no such happiness to write about today. I'm still feeling the same kind of shocked numbness you feel when you stub your toe---every nerve is just tensed waiting for the real pain to hit. It hasn't hit me yet. I'm waiting for the shock to settle in. And I don't where to go to from here.

Bobby Drake

THE END

****

Author's Notes:

Thank you for taking the time to read my writing and I hope you enjoyed "Freedom." I greatly appreciate each and every email I receive, and each and every review posted on fanfiction.net. Your comments and feedback truly help inspire me, as well as provide me with suggestions and feedback. I read, save, and print all of the feedback.

I have one request, similar to the request I made at the end of the first book in this series. Please either email me (Stormkprusa.net) or post on fanfiction.net the answer to either of the two questions below:

1. Tell me about one thing you hope to see in the sequel and one thing you hope not to see in the sequel. (Your answer can be as specific as "a great lovescene between Jean and Scott" or as vague as "more dialog")

2. Or, tell me what your favorite and least favorite part of "Freedom" was. (And again, be as specific or vague as you want.)

I wish to thank Leigh -– without you, Leigh, there simply would have been no "Freedom." You read each and every chapter before it was posted and offered an abundance of great ideas. The story is so much better than it would have been without you. You helped me learn how to breathe more life into the characters and remember the important details. Thank you for everything you've done and please, please keep on writing since your own work is so amazing! I learn from you every time I read something of yours.

And a final thank you to Ann for sticking with this from the start and providing me lots of good laughs and inspiration throughout.

Btw, did you know that if you read both my fics – "X-men: Friends of Humanity" and "Freedom", that all totaled you have read 840 pages? That's 397 pages of "Freedom" plus 443 of "Friends of Humanity"---typed and single-spaced in Word. Wow.

I'll close with some good news! A sequel will be coming your way shortly----stay tuned. If you would like to be notified when the first chapter of the sequel is released, please send me an email (stormkprusa.net) and I'll be sure to drop you a note when the sequel hits the stands.

Stormkeeper

Chapter 25

To Be Continued in The Heavens Open 


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